


The Bravest Thing Part 5

by livvels1012



Series: The Bravest Thing [5]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alcoholism, Blood and Injury, Child Neglect, Drug Use, Medical, PTSD, Religion, Violence, mentions of child abuse, there will be some Catholic content with the Rowntree family, warnings are as usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvels1012/pseuds/livvels1012
Summary: The Holidays are here and spring time will be soon to follow! Max's first holidays with his new family get underway with celebrations and spending time with loved ones. Gwen settles into Sleepy Peak for the long term and has no intentions of leaving soon. David pursues getting to know Peter Norstrom, his birth father who has been absent since he was two years old. Aster finally tells Gwen all she has been hiding and the past rears its head when the spring thaw comes and reveals all that was buried.
Series: The Bravest Thing [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477097
Comments: 36
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So as you all know, I have written an OC love interest for David, a suave bad boy type who was his high school sweetheart but I also love Gwenvid. I’d be happy with either pairing, so I’m leaving it up to you guys! Please message my tumblr livvels1012 with ‘Luc’ or ‘Gwen’. Majority rules. Help your indecisive author out. Here’s some very late holiday fluff for you guys before I hit you with a freight train of angst.

  
  
“Be fucking careful.”   
  
Max kept a straight face but he had a death grip on his end of the twinkle light bundle or as much as he could with a dense pair of mittens. It was his job to follow David along with it as he strung them up around the rooftop edge and around the porch supports, occasionally wobbling on the ladder. “You couldn’t wait to get the stupid cast off?”   
  
“What else would we do all day until then?” David balanced himself before reaching down for Max to extend more of the wire to him and smiled brightly.  _ Idiot _ , Max thought.  _ At least he’s acting normal again _ . They hadn’t talked much about the letter incident but he could tell it took time for David to really recover. He heard him wandering around the house at night unable to sleep and noticed an increase in Gwen taking over basic responsibilities to lift the pressure. She wasn’t staying at a hotel anymore. 

Max could hear hushed phone calls late at night with David anchored to the landline, awkward and tense with a touch of hopefulness. He knew who was at the other end and he was desperate to ask David about it. He just wanted to know if it was a good thing.    
  
But Gwen had pulled him aside one morning while David ate his breakfast alone on the porch. “You can’t ask him about his dad,” she said, holding him firmly by the shoulders. “I know you want to help but he wants to do this alone until he’s ready to involve you. Let him treat you like a ten year old.”   
  
“I’m eleven, Gwen.”   
  
“Fuck. Stop growing.”   
  
“I’ll get right on that.” He rolled his eyes. “I won’t ask him, as long as you’re making sure he’s not gonna walk into the forest and never come back.”   
  
“Do you think I should microchip him just in case?” Gwen asked, and Max couldn’t stop himself from snickering at the idea.    
  
But David gradually reemerged from his shell. They were back to him being the first one up in the morning making breakfast, cheerfully singing as he folded all the laundry and annoyingly doting on Max during their bedtime routine. Max couldn’t admit he missed that most. The night terrors couldn’t get him when he watched David smile and wish him “I love you, Max, see you in the morning,” before he turned the light off and left the door cracked with light trailing in from the hall.

Now he had entered the dreaded Christmas cheer stage. He dragged decorations out with one arm, throwing out fake curse words because he definitely had enough of the cast, and was singing carols constantly.    
  
“Is this gonna take much longer?” Max cut David off before he got to six geese a laying.    
  
“Maybe another fifteen minutes,” David climbed down so he could hoist the ladder onto his shoulder and move it to the next spot. “How’s your asthma?”   
  
“It’s not bad.”   
  
“You’re warm enough?”   
  
“You’re the one that smothered me in four god damn layers!” Max exclaimed, unwinding more of the lights. “You don’t have to do all this stuff for Christmas to be fun, we’ve been over this.”   
  
“It’s your first real Christmas--”   
  
“Second if you ask Nikki.”   
  
“Okay, first real calendar Christmas,” David didn’t skip a beat. “And we’re going to make sure you don’t miss out on any of the best stuff, that includes the pretty decorations. Trust me, when we light these, you’ll feel so warm and fuzzy, it’ll be like magic! I loved doing this as a kid! My mom saved every ornament I ever made, and now I get to save yours.”   
  
It sounded disgustingly cheesy and Max hid his smile under his scarf. “Don’t expect me to use glitter or censor anything.”   
  
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I can finish this, how about you go inside and warm up? There’s a box by the fireplace, that’s our first arts and crafts project.”   
  
“Ugh. Fine.” Max set the lights on the ground and scampered up the steps, the salt and melting ice making satisfying crunch noises under his boots. “You want hot chocolate?”   
  
“Yes, please!”   
  
Gwen was furiously clacking away on her computer and looked up with a pen sticking out of her mouth, the back of her screen covered in sticky notes. “Hey,” she said before going back to her project. “Hey. I’m going to make hot chocolates, do you want one? Or something else?”   
  
Without looking up, she held her coffee mug out and he took it. He didn’t even realized how programmed he had become to all the small things. He knew how to make David’s tea, Gwen’s coffee, how everyone’s toast was done and other little things like that. He came back with two mugs and handed Gwen’s to her. She took it with a loving smile, “Thanks, shithead.”   
  
“Welcome, bitch.”   
  
He only popped out onto the porch for a few minutes to put David’s hot chocolate on the railing before he ran back inside before he got scolded for not having a coat that time. He settled by the fireplace and noticed it was burning low, so he picked up a log and began to move the screen aside. “David doesn’t want you touching that stuff,” Gwen said, scrawling something down.    
  
“So go snitch to him,” Max carefully laid it down and closed the screen. The birch popped and crackled merrily as the heat began to eat away at it.  _ This smell is the best _ . He settled down on the floor and popped open the box David told him about, noticing it wasn’t one of the beaten rubbermaid bins from the attic. “Huh.” he moved the contents around. It looked like craft supplies and...three huge stockings?    
  
He began laying everything out on the coffee table and finished just as David came inside, stomping the snow off his boots and looking pretty triumphant. “Lights are done! I only got tangled up once, but I didn’t even fall.”   
  
“Proud of you,” Gwen said and closed her computer. “Is it time?”   
  
“Sure is!” After he stashed his winter gear in the closet, he hurried over and picked Max up under the arms to move him to the middle of the couch and sat down where he once was. Max glared at him.  _ I’m glad he’s feeling better but the audacity. _   
  
David explained all of the supplies and passed the stockings around to them, so excited about it that Max could only make a few mean jokes. By the time the glue had dried and David hung them up over the fireplace, Max felt accomplished and happy. As they dangled all in a line with their garish accessories, with the rustic garland strung over the mantle and all of the antique nutcrackers standing at attention above, the house never felt more lived in and loved than it did then. Gwen cleaned everything up and David searched through boxes for the Christmas records to stack by his treasured turntable. Max took back his seat by the fire, cracking open the book he was on and letting the warmth of the fire against his back calm him.    
  
“Have you finished your list, kiddo?”   
  
Max pulled his eyes away from the story and squinted at David. “My what?”   
  
“Your Christmas list,” David let the needle fall and music began to play softly.    
  
“Uh. I didn’t know I could do that.” He felt embarrassed. David picked up Gwen’s pen and a sticky note and sat down across from him, never once showing judgement on his face. “Better finish it by tomorrow, the big day comes up quick.”   
  
“Alright,” Max took the pen and tried to think about what he could possibly ask for. He drew a blank. There wasn’t a single entitled thought in his head when he needed one. “What other stuff do we do?”   
  
“On Christmas Eve, we decorate our tree and we get to open one present each. Then Christmas day we have a big brunch, stay in our pajamas all day long and open presents. And of course, the yearly dodging of Granda’s Catholic guilt tripping…”   
  
“Have you talked to him?”   
  
“A little bit, we still get coffee every week. We haven’t talked about...you know,” David coughed into his sleeve awkwardly and wouldn’t look at Max. “I think it’s best that way. He’s just going to ask so many questions and pick it apart, and I can’t deal with that until I know what to say.”   
  
“Do you think he’ll ever stop hating your dad?”    
  
“I have no idea. But it’s not for you to worry about. Finish your list,” David got up from the floor and ruffled Max’s hair as he walked past him. “And don’t forget to study a little, I’ll check it when you’re done.”   
  
“ ‘Kay,” Max watched him go, wrinkling the paper in his hands. There was no bounce in David’s gait anymore. He just seemed so weighed down and Max still couldn’t shake off feeling responsible. Gwen kept reassuring him David had the right to know and Max hadn’t done anything bad, but it didn’t feel that way. Speaking of, he thought as he eyed Gwen’s laptop, carelessly left open.    
  
_ Don’t do it. _   
  
Max got up and tip toed over to the coffee table.

  
_ You little shit _ .   


* * *

  
  
Gwen placed the last box on the shelf neatly with the rest of David’s endless arts and crafts supplies. I’m memorizing where things are, she realized as she looked up and down the hallway. She knew what towels were on which shelf in the linen closet and all of the sheets, well enough that she could put everything away properly when she helped with the laundry. She finally knew how to fold a fitted sheet, thanks to David. Chatting over a washing machine and sweeping up dust bunnies reminded her of cicada-song filled nights back at camp.    
  
There was a simplicity about that time she missed, before she had learned about things she would have blissfully lived never knowing.  _ Don’t be selfish _ , she thought.  _ Things needed to change _ .    
  
Gwen made a stop at Max’s room and gathered up his laundry, only a few stray pairs of socks and pajama pants around. He mostly put everything in his basket now, and she was impressed with how tidy he actually kept his room. He always cleaned so carefully. His bed was perfectly made, all his belongings were placed just so on his shelves and he never had garbage anywhere. Maybe impressed wasn’t the word. She was surprised. She expected him to be apathetic at best, but maybe having his own space and things to take care of meant more to him than he would say.   
  
She balanced the basket on her hip and shut his door respectfully, then went to David’s room to see if there was any tidying she could help with but he wasn’t there and she wouldn’t go in alone.  _ That’s probably weird _ . The next place he would be was his office.    
  
The door was actually partially open and she saw him hunched over his desk, leaning his forehead into his hand and studying a book. “Hey,” she announced herself and he snapped his head up. As soon as he saw her, he quickly closed the book and tried to shove it into his desk drawer, his freckles vanishing under a flush of embarrassment. “Hey!”   
  


She couldn’t help taunting him. “David,” she said with mock incredulity, “Did I catch you reading something risque?”   
  
“What?” He blinked at her, then he understood and turned redder. “No! No, no, no, far from it!”   
  
“I’m just teasing you.” She set the basket down and pushed the door the rest of the way open so she could venture inside and took her usual spot leading against the side of his desk. Something caught her eye. A circle of beautiful polished wooden beads, resting in a coil near David’s hand. Before he could hide it, she picked it up. They made a pleasant clacking noise together, like wood chimes, and were comfortingly smooth to roll between her fingers. At the end dangled a carved wooden crucifix.    
  
“It’s not even mine,” David stood up. “It’s just-- it’s an heirloom.”   
  
“It was your moms,” Gwen hadn’t seen in pictures but she felt it and knew she was right when the vulnerability darkened his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”   
  
“Thank you,” he held out his hand and she laid it in his palm. “It helps me think, you know? She would always fidget with it when she was working out a problem.”   
  
“Catholic fidget spinner?”    
  
He smiled and even laughed a tiny bit. “Kinda.”   
  
“So what’s the problem you’re working out?” Gwen asked.   
  
David’s eyes fell back to his palm. He let the beads run over it and he brought it close against his chest, twisting them and wrapping them around. He swallowed thickly. And then he blinked away tears and inhaled sharply. Without even thinking, Gwen turned and shut the office door so there was no chance of Max walking in and seeing this. One way or another, he would find a way to feel like it was his fault.    
  
“Sorry,” David said breathlessly, wiping his eyes quickly on the cuff of his sweater, trying to laugh it away.    
  
Gwen wasn’t having any of that nonsense. She switched her school to online, she put her whole life in California on hold, quit her job so she could stay here and help look after Max and tackle everything else, which included being there for David who had taken on the monumental task of fatherhood.  _ We’re in this together _ . “You can talk about it with me, Dave.” She tried for a soothing tone of voice and reached out, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. “Maybe I can help, even if I just listen.”   
  
He needed a few minutes to find his voice but he started with nodding and getting the book out of his desk. She saw immediately it was a worn out copy of a bible and he had a page marked, which he opened to. “I don’t normally even take this out anymore,” he said, his voice audibly choked. “I just needed to get out of my head. I wanted to remember what I learned about forgiveness as a kid and-- and if I still think any of that is true.”   
  
“You’re the only person I know who really believes in forgiveness,” Gwen frowned. “That’s changed recently?”   
  
“A little, but it’s more about the people around me. I try my best to give everyone a chance but then the people who taught me that in the first place don’t think the same. There’s even one Granda would say all the time when it fit into the lecture of the day,” David flipped quickly to a page and turned it around, pointing at the verse. “Ephesians, four thirty one to thirty two.  _ Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving in each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.  _ But then he conveniently forgets it when his own bitterness is laid out in the sun.”   
  
Now she thought she knew what this was about. “So you want him to put his problems with your dad to bed?” she asked.   
  
“I don’t know.”   
  
“I think you do. What do you want?”   
  
“I don’t  _ know _ ,” he insisted, putting the bible back on his desk hard. He was getting worked up and Gwen loathed to see him that way, but she knew sometimes he needed a big push in the right direction. “Yes, you do, just say it! It’s never going to happen if you don’t try to make it!”   
  
“I want to see him!”    
  
They were both silent, equally shocked. David clenched the rosary tight and tears spilled over, two perfect trickles down his cheeks. He looked so lost and desperate, almost like a kid, and Gwen had to hug him. He let out a sigh when she did and leaned his head against her shoulder gratefully. “We have good talks,” he mumbled. “He wants to hear me play my guitar and he doesn’t live far away. He says he never wanted to go far in case I ever needed him…He said he won’t tell me where until I’m sure, and if I only ever want to talk on the phone, that’s okay.”   
  
Peter sounded like a man who was trying. She hoped that was the case. “He hasn’t asked you for anything?” She rubbed his back.    
  
“No,”  _ good. If he asked you for money, I’d find him so fast _ …   
  
“ _ Fuck  _ what everyone else thinks. You want to meet your dad?” She pulled back and held him tight by his shoulders. He was chewing his lip anxiously but he nodded. “Then do it. I support you, so will Max and I think Aster will, too. Your grandfather loves you and that’s not going to change, even if he’s shitty at showing it sometimes.”   
  
“Do you really think I should?”    
  
“I think life will go on if you make a decision not based on how you’re afraid of other people reacting.”    
  
“Okay,” David showed her a real smile. “Good point...Thanks, Gwen. You-- you’re my best friend, I hope you know.”   
  
“I’m  _ the  _ best,” She corrected him and let him go, relieved he was feeling better. She was proud of him. It was no small act of courage to contact an estranged father. “I can make Max lunch, you take a breather.”   
  
“He can eat in his room if he wants to.”   
  
“I know the house rules.”   
  
“Right,” he got the door for her, smiling brighter now. “You practically live here after all.”   
_  
_ _ I do, _ she realized and made a face once he couldn’t see. Her parents better not be getting any wrong ideas. It was still quiet downstairs and she caught Max moving back to his pile of blankets in front of the fireplace in a hurry when the bottom stair creaked under her foot. “I saw that,” she said firmly and gave him the best  _ look  _ she could. There wasn’t anything on her laptop she thought would do any harm, but he needed to stop. Snooping. God. Dammit! Even when it paid off, it was a bad habit and it had to go.    
  
“Saw what?” he asked and turned around, giving her an innocent look.    
  
Gwen dropped the basket promptly. Dribbling down his front lip was a steady gush of blood from his nose, only one side, but it was so starkly there that her heart frog leaped into her throat. “Max!”   
  
“What?”    
  
“You have a huge fucking nosebleed!” How the hell did he not notice?!   
  
Max squinted at her but wiped his hand under his nose. When it came away bright red and wet, he looked pretty damn surprised and not nearly concerned enough. Gwen forced herself to walk calmly over and leaned down to look at him. He leaned away but she put a steady hand on his shoulder, “Just let me look, dammit.”   
  
“I’m fine, don’t  _ touch  _ me.”   
  
Her heart thumped quicker.  _ He’s slurring his words, _ she thought and took his face in her hands. No weird temperature and his eyes looked normal. “Do you feel okay?” She asked, grabbing a tissue from the box on the coffee table and cleaning him up, then giving him another to pinch his nose with his clean hand and began wiping his other off for him. “My head kinda hurts,” he shrugged. She knew he got headaches when he was tired or particularly upset, and the doctor had told David it was normal. “Let’s just wait and see if it stops on its own,” she decided and put the box of tissues in his lap.   
  
It ended up doing just that. She sent him to the bathroom to wash up and then up to his room with a kids tylenol and a big bottle of water and a crisp, “Nap, right now.” just in case it was an issue of exhaustion. She made sure to stuff the bloody tissues deep in the garbage and cover them a little. If it was a problem, David could learn about it through her, not through a gory scene that would send him into a tizzy and just annoy Max.   
  
When all of that was done, she logged back into her laptop to see what she knew Max was looking at. It was just an article she had been reading about tarot cards, focused on the Hanged Man. Nothing that would freak him out, she was sure.   
  
She closed out her work and rummaged in the kitchen for a while to make something easy. David would just have to accept the frozen pizza she tossed in the oven. Gwen could forget about it for twenty minutes while she went to check on Max.    
  
His room was dark with the curtains drawn and she knocked two times before peeking in, but the kid was just a lump under his quilt, his face shoved into his pillow and Mr. Honeynuts crammed in his arms.  _ It’s just the dry air, _ she kept reminding herself but Max’s odd behavior still scared her. It wasn’t his normal level of apathy. She stopped by his bed and picked up his water bottle, then growled internally when it was full.    
  
And she nearly dropped it when she saw Max was staring at her with piercing eyes, wide awake. Gwen recovered quickly, “I told you to drink this.”   
  
“I wasn’t thirsty.”   
  
“Doesn’t matter, you can’t take medication without water, it’s not good for you. Sit up,” Gwen rolled back his blanket and fixed his pillows, as Max dragged himself upright unhappily. He held patiently still as she laid the back of her hand against his forehead and then cheek, still finding no fever. “I didn’t take it,” he muttered.   
  
Gwen held her tongue. Max reached down between the bed frame and mattress, and pulled out the tylenol and a few others, which she recognized as vitamins David tried to give him each morning. She held out her hand expectantly and he surrendered them to her, looking reasonably abashed. Gwen put them aside and looked back at him, trying so hard to not look or sound angry. “Why are you hiding them?” she asked.   
  
“So I can throw them out later…” he hung his head low, and kept worrying his teddy bear’s ear. “Are you going to make me take them?”   
  
Before she could answer, she heard a whisper so tiny she was almost certain it was her imagination.  _ He did _ . Gwen didn’t need to ask which he Max meant. He curled up against his pillows and pressed his bear tight against his cheek and his little body visibly trembled at the memory. “Let me in,” she said and lifted the blanket up so she could climb in under it. Max scoffed but didn’t stop her, not even when she pulled him close against her side and tucked the blanket around him snugly. In fact, he burrowed his face in her shirt and closed his eyes, openly accepting it without a peep. I still can’t believe this is the same kid, Gwen thought with a warm smile and ran her fingers through his thick hair to comfort him.    
  


“Max?” she asked after a little while, petting her fingers up and down his cheek. “If this is happening a lot, you have to tell me.”   
  
“No, I don’t.”   
  
“Yes, you do, you little tyrant.”   
  
“It’s  _ not _ , so fucking leave it alone.”   
  
“Fine, fine. I have to go finish making lunch,” She eased her way off the bed but made sure to tuck him in again and then dropped his journal onto the blanket. “Finish that Christmas list, got it?”

  
  
She made sure to open his curtains and let the light back in so he wouldn’t fall back asleep before she left and nearly ran smack into David in the hallway. “Jesus Christ!”   
  
“Just me, actually.”    
  
“Funny,” she swatted his arm and he gasped in pretend pain, “Owie!”   
  
“Shut up, I know it’s healed.”   
  
“Yeah. I bet I could take the cast off myself--”   
  
“ _ Abso-fucking-lutely not _ !”    
  
“Kidding,” he said wimpily and followed her downstairs. “Max okay?”   
  
“Yep, he’s in his room journaling.”   
  
“Aw, that’s good. It really helps him.”   
  
Gwen pulled the pizza out of the oven and began cutting it as David got plates and cups down from the cupboard. “Have you taken him to the doctor recently?” she asked, “Since the last of his vaccinations?”   
  
“No? Should I be?”    
  
“I’m just asking, relax.”   
  
David ran Max’s plate up to him and rejoined her at the table so they could eat their lunch together and chat. Before he sat down, he put a paper up on the fridge and studied it proudly from his chair.    
  
**Shit I Want** **  
** **  
** **-One metric fuck-ton of yarn** **  
** **-More film** **  
** **-New piano music book** **  
** **-Video game picked by Gwen and NOT David** **  
** **-Macrame stuff/beads** **  
** **-I want to make stupid Christmas cookies with you guys** **  
** **  
** “You can’t get him anything above a PG-13 rating,” David said.   
  
“You have no impact on this decision. The list hath spoken.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a long chapter!
> 
> I'm closing votes and the consensus is this.
> 
> I'll definitely let Luc make an appearance for him and David to get closure, and then it's very slow burn Gwenvid. Thanks for your feed back, guys! I really do appreciate the help deciding. 
> 
> Another song is featured in this chapter, feel free to check out the whole thing. The Weak End, by Shawn James.

Gwen didn’t want tea. Aster insisted.   
  
She left the cup untouched on the table. It was made of pretty porcelain with a gold rim, probably an antique and definitely part of a set. There was a big cabinet of china in the dining room full of them like it. Aster rested her fingers on the teapot lid as she stared down into her own cup. “You can never tell anyone what you learn here.” she said, dropping a cube of sugar into it. The spoon clinked deafeningly in the quiet as she stirred and tapped it on the rim, then set it aside with the cookies. Aster looked her square in the eye. “I will not tell you if you can’t give me your word and  _ keep it _ .”   
  
Gwen gripped her pen aggressively, her knuckles cracking with the pressure but she slowly released it. Back into her purse it went with the notebook and she pushed it away with her foot. “Not even David?”   
  
“Especially not David and  _ never  _ Max.”   
  
“So this does have something to do with him.”   
  
Aster stared at her silently and Gwen swallowed down a snappy comment. “I swear I’ll keep this between us.” she said through gritted teeth and felt the weight of the promise clap down shut around her.    
  
“Good enough,” Aster murmured and sipped her tea with one hand and reached under her chair with the other. She grabbed the handle with what fingers she had left on her open hand and dragged out a battered looking military container, muted green and a bit rusted. She spun the combination into the lock and pried the heavy metal lid open with a grind. Gwen leaned over to look inside. There was a handmade bow carved with several words and as she looked longer, it dawned on her that they were all  _ names _ . At first she thought the rest of it was a bundle of furs but as Aster moved them, they turned out to be clothing. Pants, a coat, makeshift gloves and a cape treated to blend into the forest.    
  
The police officer reached under the crudely treated skins and pulled out a carved piece of wood, painted with red ocher and resembling a fox.

  
  


* * *

  
  
Peter adjusted the velcro straps of his vest over and over again, the unbearable noise wearing down on Aster’s nerves until she finally just turned around and grabbed the shoulders of it and gave it a harsh wiggle. “Men have no idea how to dress themselves,” she teased him and adjusted it into place. Peter held his hands aloft in the air and looked down his nose at her for the _audacity_ of touching him. “Your shirt is on inside out.” he said flatly. Aster immediately darted her eyes down to her collar, only for him to swat the underside of her nose.    
  
“Wanker,” she swatted his hand away and the corner of his mouth twitched. That was the closest he got to smiling most times. “Nervous?”   
  
“No. Eager.” He shrugged his windbreaker on but moved his badge over it so it was still prominently displayed. “I knew I was right about those lunatics and we're finally doing something about it.”   
  
“It’s just crowd control, don’t get heated.”   
  
“You’re here to keep things calm, I’m here to drop trouble makers.”    
  
“Keep the crowd calm, not you!”   
  
“You’ll do fine,” he reached over and patted her head, which he knew she  **hated** . He wouldn’t say it but it was a silent pass at how short she was. “Let’s get going, I’ll drive.”   
  
“You never let me drive,” she grumbled.   
  
He was better at it, though. He always seemed to know how to avoid all the red lights and get where they needed to go faster, but the vigil wasn’t to start for a while, so he stopped to get them coffee. “Herbal or--” he started and Aster sighed silently. “Coffee. Regular way.”   
  
Peter hesitated, before he awkwardly patted her head again once and went to get their order. When he came back, he also had a macaroon cookie and handed it to her. “...Probably for the best that it takes a little longer. You need time to decide on a different name.”   
  
“Fuck off, Bedivere is a great name!”   
  
“If you’re a plague victim four centuries ago.”   
  
Aster elbowed him but he had achieved the effect he wanted. For a moment, her sadness was transformed into humor and she was grateful for it. “What name would you choose, then?” She demanded.

“None,” Peter scoffed behind the lid of his coffee. “Nobody needs another Norstrom or wants one.”

Aster’s heart sank for him. She wished he could see himself for one  _ second  _ the way she did. Witty and caring, and never doing anything less than his best. A hundred times better than where he had come from. “Pete,” she started and touched his arm but he shoved it off with a growl, spilling coffee all over the console. “Can we go one shift without you preaching at me?!” He snapped. Peter put the cup in its holder, grumbling under his breath. “Look what you fucking made me do— we only have two clean cars for the…”

Aster huffed and opened the glove box for napkins. “It’ll clean up easy. Stop cursing at me—“

“Get out of that!”

He lunged to close it but Aster kneed his hand away and they locked eyes. She saw him waver, a twitch of weakness and she opened it again with lightning speed. Quick fingers found the only thing out of place and she pulled out a paper. It had been crumpled but then carefully smoothed out and folded in half afterwards. Aster’s eyes scanned it and a grin crept across her face. “What is this?”

“Ugh,” he put his head against the steering wheel. 

“A  _ folk music festival?” _

“Maybe I want to support local bands! Is there something  _ wrong  _ with that?”

“You mean a local soloist.” 

“Stoppit.”

“With warm doe eyes and long red hair—“

“If you keep talking, I am going to _shoot_ _myself_.”

Aster laughed and put the flyer partially into the visor so they could see it. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell Willow. Hopefully she can’t spot your broody mug in the crowd.”

Peter drove the rest of the way in silence, as he tried to glare two holes into the windshield.  _ It’s okay to want to be close to someone, you hopeless mopey boy.  _ Aster thought as she fondly twisted her wedding ring around her finger and went through the list of names in her head. Maybe old knight names weren’t a good idea. Something more modern.  _ I like Ash. Asher? I can trade the knight theme for trees.  _

She pulled herself out of her thoughts as the car stopped and she heard the rabble of voices in a group. “We’re here,” Peter said. He turned the car off and passed her the megaphone. “Talked to Terrin?”

“A little. He’s determined to do this, and I stand by him. It’s something the community needs right now until we’re able to give them something more,” Aster stepped out of the car into a brisk autumn wind. People were gathering in the street ahead, holding wreaths and lighting candles. Some were holding signs painted with bold letters, messages like  **FIND OUR CHILDREN** and  **WE WANT THE TRUTH** . Aster worried this vigil would become a protest but she had faith in Terrin to keep the gathering focused on the reason they were there; to peacefully show solidarity for the families missing their little ones. She saw him at the front, passing out flowers and shaking hands or even hugging parents.    
  
Aster helped set up the perimeter with the sparse group of officers, only two others, before she lingered at her post and waited for him to catch sight of her. She had only seen him that morning but not even awake. She kissed his cheek and let him continue hogging the blankets as he slept through her leaving for work.    
  
When he did see her, he waded through the crowd and looked around to make sure no one saw her unprofessionalism before he leaned down and kissed her warmly, his glasses bumping her cheek as he did. “Thank you for doing this.” he said, pulling away with a nervous smile. “The turn out is bigger with people knowing they’re watched over.”   
  
“Chief was happy to do it for them.” Aster found his hand and held his cold fingers between her palms as she tried to warm them. “You should have worn gloves,” she scolded him gently.   
  
“I forgot.”   
  
_ He would forget shoes if I didn’t put them right in his path _ . “You’ll find them.” he said. "The kids."   
  
“Are you asking or telling me?”   
  
“Neither,” he brought her hands up and kissed her fingers softly and gave her his brightest smile. “I just know you will. You’re a force of goodness that can’t be stopped and they’ll never see that coming.”   
  
“Dramatic,” Aster rolled her eyes. He still made her blush years later. “Go on, I’ll be watching your back. Just make sure they stay civil so nobody gets provoked.”   
  
Aster didn’t want to let his hands go. She wanted to talk about the unspoken disappointment but there was never a good time and she wondered why she could even think about that now. Her eyes traveled around to find her partner and settled on his tall form, his piercing eyes studying the building in front of them and its glaring white exterior.  _ Stay calm, Peter _ . He hated these people since the first week they raised those walls and made themselves known and the  _ incident  _ just solidified his hatred.    
  
The vigil began.    
  
It was quiet at first. People sometimes sang together, others knelt and prayed. Some went up to the officers and asked questions that they had been rehearsing answers to. Pictures of the missing children were laid at the pile of wreaths, flowers, letters and candles at the gates of the church.    
  
But all fell silent when the doors opened and a figure that had become known by every individual in Sleepy Peak walked down the steps. Even the very sight of him made her shiver like a cold blade edge scraping down her spine. He never wore anything but perfect white without so much as the tiniest smudge of dirt. Perfectly cut full beard. Perfectly brushed hair. Perfect posture. Nothing about him seemed  _ human _ , and Aster had to remind herself that he wasn’t anything more than a well spoken manipulator and he would slip up one way or another soon. Father Maximos was just a man.   
  
Others followed behind him and frightened talk rippled through the crowd at the sight of them bearing  _ guns _ . Shotguns and rifles, the sort many people just had in their garages and sheds for the occasional need to spook off a wild animal or go hunting. But Aster exchanged a heartbeat long look with Peter and he silently said to her _ those aren’t for animals _ .    
  
“We’re gathered peacefully,” Terrin spoke up at the front of the crowd. He was holding a candle and a hand cupped to keep the flame from flickering out in the breeze.    
  
“No, you are not.”    
  
“I promise we are.”   
  
She felt so scared and so proud that Terrin didn’t flinch in the face of danger. She started to quietly move forward as they exchanged words that echoed over the cold dirt street. “You come with doubt and accusation in your hearts,” the father went on as he gestured widely to the people. “You believe we have harmed your wandering children.”   
  
“They didn’t wander!” A man shouted from behind Terrin. “You took them! Stop lying!”   
  
“The police are here, let them look in your so called church if you have nothing to hide!” another threw in and the crowd began to shout similar words, demanding they open the gates. Father Maximos stepped forward as his lackeys, because Aster didn’t know what else to call them, actually undid the locks and pulled them open.    
  
“If you step past that property line with those weapons--” She said, but her voice was carried away and she fumbled to turn on the megaphone.    
  
“We have nothing to hide.” Father Maximos said calmly and stood in front of her husband. “What shame is there in saving children from a corrupt world?”   
  
His confession shocked everyone. He spread his hands calmly before he laid one of them on Terrin’s arm, gentle and she saw him shaking and fire exploded inside of her as her weapon left her holster and she was  _ moving _ .    
  
“Maximos Yadar, you are under arrest for kidnapping--” she started but he looked straight into her eyes and she was paralyzed with a jolt.  _**Not** just a man _ .    
  
“We will save you all.” he smiled at her and she wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to help or bite out her throat. “And we will make this place  _ pure _ .”   
  
_ Crack _ .   
  
She hit the ground.   
  
It hurt. It burned in her ribs. There was no air to breathe.   
  
She gasped and felt something warm hit her cheek and stick in her hair before it quickly became cold with the exposure and the ringing stopped. Aster dragged a hand down her face and looked at the crimson smeared across her fingers as she pushed herself upright. People were screaming and feet were hitting the ground in utter mayhem and more thunder claps were splitting the sky but there were no clouds. She looked down at her vest and saw shiny beads embedded in it. It was full of buckshot and she wasn’t certain it all hit the vest. Where was the blood coming from?   
  
Where was the shooter?   
  
Aster looked around wildly for her gun and grabbed her radio, hitting the button. “Shots fired on Tolowa Street, request immediate backup and medical response!” she gasped into the speaker and staggered to her feet. She took her thumb off and spun around, looking wildly as people bumped into her. She couldn’t see Father Maximos. “Terrin?” she called. “ _ TERRIN!” _ _  
_   
It would be seared into her brain forever.    
  
In the moment she saw his broken glasses and his form on the ground, a portion of his neck nearly obliterated from a point blank shot, Aster was utterly convinced she was dead and in Hell. This was the punishment for everything she had ever done wrong in her existence. And if there was a God in heaven that knew mercy, a part of her would wake up from this nightmare that was her brain experiencing her dying moments and she would realize she was the one bleeding out and Terrin was being pulled away by officers or bystanders.   
  
She just stood there and watched the pool of red slowly grow as he spluttered and his lips glistened red and all the warmth in those eyes that always looked at her like a bloom turning to the sun faded away forever.    
  
Her radio crackled but she didn’t understand English anymore. It slipped from her hand. She didn’t care about finding her weapon or anything else.   
  
Hands seized her shoulders and pulled her around and she came face to face with a fully shouting Peter. She vaguely remembered this man. He shook her and his lips moved and all at once, her ears stopped ringing and the words reached. “No one is coming!”   
  
Gunfire crackled and he pushed her down onto the concrete to keep their heads out of the line. “T-Terrin,” she stammered towards the ground as he dragged her up again by her vest and began to pull her away, saying something about people being evacuated but it was meaningless. She clawed at the air uselessly and kept calling his name until it was tearing from her throat in an inhuman scream of anguish, as if his soul somewhere on its way out of his body could hear her and change its mind and come back. She scratched at Peter and beat him but he pulled her along like she was nothing but a kitten, occasionally firing his own weapon until he threw her into the back seat of the car and locked her in.  _ “We can’t leave him! _ ”   
  
She begged him to let her out and kicked the window, threw herself against the door as he started the car and reversed quickly away from the scene, bullets grazing the metal.    
  
Peter looked in the rear view mirror as he moved the car into drive and slammed on the gas. The other two officers got everyone they could out of the way, but there were still bodies in the street and he didn’t miss the kindergarten teacher that was the first they opened fire on. There was a column of smoke in the distance that he knew was the police department. He heard the explosion through his radio.    
  
Aster continued to scream and sob and choke in the back seat, laying on the floor now as she came completely undone, begging to go back but Peter silently found the backroad he wanted. They had to get back to the precinct and see what was left. “I’m sorry,” it was hollow.    
  
He couldn’t shake off the roar of blood in his ears leftover from when he saw his partner drop under a shotgun blast. People fell and ran. He helped some, but not enough.    
  
When he finally turned the bend and saw their precinct or what was left of it, he knew there was nothing left for them. It was littered with makeshift armor cars around the place, every window and door blasted outwards and those psychopaths in white toting the weapons they had apparently stockpiled as they filed inside. He saw three dead officers. He recognized one of them. And he recognized one of the demons in white as a missing freshman, whose poster he had helped put up himself.    
  
Peter flexed his fingers around the wheel and breathed slowly before he eased backwards to avoid making too much noise and crept away into the suburbs. “We wait to hear something on the radio. Anyone who got out will make contact,” he started to say and he was talking to himself. Aster had quieted but she was breathing shallowly now with whimpering noises that reminded him of a dying animal with seconds left.  _ That must be how she feels _ .    
  
He veered onto the country road and followed his instincts. Peter didn’t realize he was going  _ there  _ until the farmhouse was rising in the distance and he couldn’t turn around. He didn’t know where else to go but he stopped at the barn and moved the rotting doors before he drove the car inside. He didn’t want anyone seeing it.   
  
Peter unlocked the back and looked at the pieces of a woman on the floor. What could he say? There was nothing worthy of a moment like this. He had grown to accept people just left his life and that was the order of things. Why dwell? Why cry? He had to move forward and not let it make him weak.    
  
He leaned down and gingerly laid his hand on her shoulder. “Aster, you have to get up.” but she wasn't hearing him.   
  
In the end, he was forced to drag her from the car and onto the dirt, where he sat her up against the car but she kept her gaze down. The blood was still spattered across her face and he carefully peeled her vest off. Pellets scattered across the ground and her jacket went next. “Just let me take a look,” he said, touching the hem of her shirt and Aster turned her head away from him. She was shaking. “Help me out here and don’t go into shock, because you’re the closest thing to a doctor here.”   
  
Peter lifted her shirt up enough to see where her vest was struck and there was redness spidering across the side of her ribs. She would bruise deeply but as far as he could tell, it was only broad surface damage. He checked her arm for any injury, following the blood spray to make sure none of it was hers and when he was satisfied she was uninjured, he put her coat back on. As he zipped it, he looked at her face and flinched to see her looking straight at him without blinking. _Shit, that's creepy_. “Can you check on Terrin?” she rasped. “I think he was hurt.”   
  
_ Fuck. Please don’t make me be this guy _ . His mouth was dry when he said, “He isn’t here.”    
  
“Oh.”   
  
Her lip trembled. He didn’t know how she could possibly have any tears left in her eyes but she did.    
  
Peter dared to leave her alone long enough to find the pump in the back and came back with a bucket of cold water. He wished he had a way to heat it but it would have to do. Aster hadn’t moved from where he left her and she didn’t resist when he wiped the blood off her face and carefully unpinned her hair so he could rinse out where it had clumped, working his fingers to get it out thoroughly. It was the only thing he thought might help; washing her husband’s death off of her. 

  
  
(skip)   
  
Aster had stopped talking. Gwen’s stomach was in knots. “Do you need a minute?” she asked.   
  
She nodded once and Gwen picked up the teapot so she could get more hot water. She tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Max’s grandfather and namesake had been a fucking cult leader and he was the one that started the bloodbath in 1984 that became the tabooed history of Sleepy Peak. It terrified her that Max was walking the streets where it had happened and she knew that he was never going to be safe here until his father was dealt with.    
  
She came back and Aster thanked her softly for refilling her cup. “That’s why Rishima wanted Max here,” Gwen sat next to her this time. She didn’t feel the need to distance. “Max wouldn’t need to prove how dangerous his father is to you.”   
  
“And she knew I wouldn’t let the law stop me from getting between them.”   
  
Aster began fixing up her tea the way she liked and steeled herself to continue.    
  
  


* * *

  
  
Aster’s breath fogged the air. It was beginning to snow, but her new layers kept out the cold and she continued to fix the fletching on her arrows. “You need to cut them like this,” she said and Peter leaned over to see her work so he could copy it. Arrows were easier to come by than bullets. “Are you sure you can handle this?”   
  
“It’s like exterminating parasites,” he growled and tested his bow string. His archery had improved miles in the last months and his hands were still wrapped from his efforts days ago. He had become quieter than ever but also warmer in his own way, readily showing compassion and affection where he never did once. She caught him humming songs to himself for comfort when he thought he was alone. “But quietly.”   
  
“And together."   
  
Peter bowed his head heavily and nodded as he reached over and gripped her hand tightly. His fingers were bonier than they used to be. So were her own. “I might’ve turned out halfway good if I grew up with a little sister like you.”   
  
_Uh oh, he's sentimental. That's not good_. “I’m older than you.”   
  
“Shit, that’s right.” He showed her the slightest smile.    
  
“For what it’s worth, I wish I had a big brother like you.” Aster leaned over and kissed his cheek, which was cold and she wished they would have warm beds and real kitchens and showers again soon. But she didn’t know if she would ever really leave this forest. “You are good, though.” she murmured tiredly and rested her head against his shoulder with a deep sigh.   
  
“I wish I thought so,” he leaned his head against hers and draped an arm around her. He had never done that before. “I feel used up, Aster. Whatever is left is going today.”   
  
No one ever wanted him if he wasn’t worth anything to them. And when he wasn’t, they moved him along. Rotating foster homes since he could remember never did much to encourage faith but he wanted to believe in something. He had to believe that this winter would thaw, the nightmare would end and spring would come and he would walk into it with people who actually gave a damn about him.    
  
They wouldn’t take one of those people away.   
  
“It’s a trap,” he lifted his head. “They’re using her to bait us.”   
  
Aster let go of his hand and stood up on exhausted legs that would just have to do and took her mask from her belt and slipped it on. “Foxes are good at getting out of traps.”   


* * *

  
  
It was where it all began. Aster could scarcely remember the time lost when this church seemed like all they said it was; a church. Quiet and unassuming with its white siding and silent bell that never tolled, nothing like the horror show it looked like now, with the bodies of those they declared ‘ascended’ strung by their ankles around the property. And somewhere inside, they had Willow.   
  
Aster was  _ furious _ .   
  
All Willow ever tried to do was help. She chose to risk her own life to find supplies for people under her care because she couldn't sit by waiting for it, and they had been watching for their chance to take her, the only one of them that wasn't truly capable of putting up a fight. She had taken an oath and she would not break it for anything, in her own way of rebellion against the cycle of violence that had hold of her home. She fought back with gentility and wisdom and had held on to her humanity where Aster had buried it six feet under and these bastards  _ dared  _ to touch her.    
  
All they had taken, they would not take her.   
  
She and Peter moved in sink to take out the guards in silent lethality and he made quick work of cutting a way through the fence so they could wriggle their way through. He bent it back into place so at a glance it looked undamaged and they kept low to the ground in the grass as they made their way to the side and Peter gave her a leg up to catch the edge of the roof. She silently pulled herself up and then helped him to her side. Through the bell steeple, they could get in unnoticed.   
  
“If he’s in there,” Peter whispered as they climbed through. “What will you do?”   
  
“Not the time,” she hissed and began to get the floor hatch open as quietly as possible. Locked, of course, but hinges came off easily.    
  
Peter reached out and gripped her arm tightly until she met his eyes and she saw a desperation there she did not like. “We’re here to save her and everything else comes second.”   
  
Aster held his gaze for a long time before she wrenched the hinges off and opened the door, silently falling down into the attic. He had no choice but to follow her as they crept across the floorboards and sounds floated up through to meet them.   
  
Beautiful and melodic in all of its strained sound, someone was singing a hymn in this place that was meant to be holy but was as close to hell as any on earth ever came to be.    
_  
_ _ “Ten thousand enemies wait at my door, _ _  
_ _ I wait for freedom soon. _ _  
_ _ Can’t take much more.”  _

Willow’s voice reverberated out beautifully but was cut off with a cry of pain as one of them shouted at her to be silent, and Aster made it to the bottom of the stairs and eased the door open in time to see one of them seize her by her hair and hurl her to the floor. Peter was snarling quietly.    
  
Willow laid there for a moment, shoulders quaking with sobs she subdued but she stayed on her knees with her hands pressed against the wood. Trembling but sure, her voice rose again.  _ “I feel the whole earth shake, brought to my knees.” _   
  
She raised her head to look up at Father Maximos who watched her unimpressed, his son lingering behind him quiet and insidious. No more than a teenager, but just as dangerous as all the rest. Willow was made of defiance and she channeled it into her voice. _"_ _ Although ten thousand strong, we shall be free. _ ”   
  
Just as Peter crept out from the door, he looked up and said softly, “Oh, fuck,” before the butt of a gun slammed into his forehead and he fell in a heap. Aster immediately leapt up with her knife out and slashed at the person who reached for him but hands met her arm and twisted it until something gave out and she screeched in rage and pain before her other hand lunged and clawed at eyes.    
  
Peter raised his head, blood running into his eyes as he tried to stop seeing stars but he probably had a concussion and there was no stopping the cultists from grabbing him by the arms and stripping his weapons away. Willow stood up and cried, “ _ Peter!  _ Don’t hurt him!” before Sunil stepped forward and silenced her with a slap. Willow turned her face back at him, took one look and spat at the floor at his feet. 

Aster wrestled with three assailants as they hauled Peter away and threw him onto the floor next to her and she quickly took his face in her hands to look at his injury, crying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just wanted to help. I never meant for this--”   
  
“ _ Shhh _ ,” he was dizzy and in pain but he hushed her and placed an unsteady hand over hers. They fell silent as they leaned their heads together and he held tightly to her like that was enough to shield her from what was to come.   
  
“I want to see their face.” Maximos spoke up, and the moment the mask was pulled off, Aster lunged and sank her teeth into the culprit’s fingers. Two of them were dangling by a thread and he was left screaming as he fell backwards, clutching at the gush of blood. Aster grinned at them all, fully aware of how mad and feral she must have looked, with her teeth streaked red and blood dribbling down her chin. She _wanted_ them to be afraid. Father Maximos walked calmly forward and leaned down close to her to study her face and lifted a hand to move a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Aster tried to jerk away from his hand, _“Don’t fucking touch me!”_   
  
“I remember you,” he said softly. “There at the start. Tell me, do you feel  _ proud  _ of all the chaos you have wrought, little fox?”   


“You started it,” she spat in his face. “When you took those kids, killed my husband, and all those people!  _ You’re a monster that needs to be put down! _ ”   
  
Father Maximos calmly wiped the splatter of blood and saliva off his cheek and looked at her with the most profound gaze of sadness and disappointment. “I am sorry you have suffered, but you will see it’s the way to salvation. This world is corrupted. People step on the necks of others to get higher in the order of nature and that is not how it should be. We all need to be humbled to be equal and only then can we help each other. You will see. I will  _ help  _ you see.”   
  


“Don’t,” Willow started to stand up but Peter held her back. He knew it would be worse. During it all, Willow hid her eyes in his shoulder and sang her hymn to calm herself and comfort her friend.    
  
_ “I hear the sweetest sound, _ _  
_ _ Blow in from the north.” _   
  
Aster bared her teeth silently as they dragged her towards the altar and they twisted her good arm behind her back but wrenched the injured forward and slammed it down on the wooden surface. She hissed but wouldn’t cry out. Something was broken, but she could still move her fingers. If she could just twist her way out-- what is he doing?   
  


_ “It says don’t panic now…What’s mine is yours.” _

  
The son was coming forward with a knife and looking entirely too pleased for whatever task his father whispered to him to do. The pretender priest knelt down to personally help the man she had wounded and Aster stared into the eyes of Sunil as he stood by her. “I’m going to orphan you, you little bastard.” she hissed.   
  
“Father is right,” he put the edge of the blade to her hand. “You do need help.”

  
It cut swiftly through the flesh and bone like they weren’t any more resistant than a baby carrot and two fingers were freed from her hand. Aster was so shocked that she didn’t even make a sound. Willow screamed. Peter shouted and cursed and they had to hit him again before he did something outrageously reckless. Aster’s heart hammered with renewed adrenaline and she watched the blood pour forth.   
  


_ “I hope ten thousand times,” _ Willow rose shakily to her feet and brought Peter with her by the hand.  _ “You tell me the truth. Because there is much to do…” _

  
It was gushing with some force and Aster thought distantly in the back of her mind  _ arterial bleeding from two little fingers? That’s unfortunate _ .    
  


Aster looked at her friends, at Willow’s terror stricken face wet with tears and Peter’s tired and running red as he tried to keep himself between her and all others. Willow’s lips moved, every note perfect. _ “I trust in you. We shall be free.” _

  
The son was grinning at her. But his grin faltered when the muscles in Aster’s face stretched into her own mad cheshire grin and he stammered, “Wh-what’s wrong with you?”   
  


_ “We shall be free.” _

  
“Thanks,” she said before she threw her head back into the nose of the one restraining her and they stumbled back. She swung her free hand and slammed it into Sunil’s throat and he stumbled back with a choke and she plucked the knife from his hand like it was nothing. She had a singular target and there were many between her and him but she was made of nothing but grief and wrath now. She was war bred in the bone now and Peter tackled the only one close enough to stop her and fell to the ground in a brutal tangle of thrown fists, both intent on beating each other to death.    
  
Father Maximos side stepped her barely and the blade grazed his chest and blood stained white. Aster rounded on him and drove the blade forward and narrowly missed anything vital but it fell into his shoulder. He promptly slammed his knee into her stomach and she went down wheezing but he was  _ right there  _ and every fiber of her body pushed her to stay conscious.   
  
Shots were going off and she realized Peter had gotten one of their guns. It was turning into a fire fight and he kicked over a pew to give cover to him and Willow. Aster had no choice but to dive behind one as well and clutched her hand, feeling the throbbing pain now. She looked around wildly until she saw an asshole in white holding her bow. Her. Fucking. Bow.   
  
_ That’s mine _ , she thought viciously as she frantically ripped bandages from the inside of her coat and haphazardly wrapped her hand.    
  
The good thing about being small was that she was light and she didn’t knock over the pews when she jumped across the top and used it to get some height to kick the thief in the chest and land full force on him, crushing the air out and ripping her bow out of his hands. She made quick work of stomping his larynx into nothing and slung the bow over her head and grabbed a handful of arrows before a spray of bullets caught her in the calf during her rush to get to cover.   
  
“That’s a lot of my blood,” she said breathlessly to herself and jammed an arrow between her teeth and peeked over the wood to find her target. She only had four arrows. She sacrificed two to take heat off of Peter, who then popped his head up to shout, “ _ FUCKING TAKE HIM OUT! END IT! _ ”   
  
Aster drew carefully with her hand trembling and throbbing, forced to use her thumb and pointer finger. She wasn’t used to this grip and it was strange, but it was all she had and she looked down the shaft to find her target trying to leave through the front doors with his son by his side.    
  
She let the string go.   
  
Father Maximos fell.   
  
His son cursed her and he ran and Aster fell to the floor, her bow clattering across it as she cradled her hand and Willow was there in an instant. “Keep it above your heart,” she said, moving it so and Peter passed her his belt to make a tourniquet for her leg. “Aster, listen to my voice. You’re going to be alright.”   
  
Her voice faded away into vapor and Aster lowered her head, wishing she had something to lay it again. She felt ready to sleep.   
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Gwen stared at her and Aster wouldn’t blink. “There was never any police raid you led,” she felt almost sick. This was fucked up. This was more fucked up than anything she could have thought.    
  
“No one was coming,” Aster shrugged. "He had to be stopped."

“He was--”   
  
“Max’s grandfather. Yeah. We didn’t know where the kid Sunil went, but now I know through  _ his  _ son that he fled back to India, changed his surname and came back here to carry on his father’s vision and most likely avenge him.” She drank her tea, utterly calm.   
  
Gwen pushed hers away. She didn’t want it now. “You had another arrow left.”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“You could have…”   
  
“I saw him as a kid, of all things. I often wondered if I should have done it but now that regret is quiet. Max is here for it and isn’t that proof I did the right thing?”   
  
She couldn’t argue with that. “I can’t believe you’re alive after all of that.” 

“Willow was a very good doctor and Peter has a will to rival God’s. They carried me out of there when it was all said and done, picked up the pieces. After we cut the head off the snake, the rest died and it was just clearing away the rest that did run. Some got picked up by the law, others died in the wilderness and the rest we just never heard of again. We rebuilt. Tried to go back to normal but it wasn’t there…”

Aster twisted her new wedding ring around her finger moodily to keep her hands busy. “Peter could never reconcile with the fact that they weren’t wholly gone. He was always afraid of them coming back to hurt him or someone else, and he tried so hard for Willow to let it go. He swore up and down once he would never have kids but you should’ve seen him obsessing over what color to paint David’s nursery.”

“Huh. He almost sounds sweet.”

“He could be. And I thought he was really going to get better until it all fell apart. It started with some arson right after David was brought home, and Peter shot the culprit. They had a dog,” she swallowed, a mixture of anger and nausea written over her face. “They found it on the front porch...they wrote a message with the blood on the front door. They were _watching_ the Rowntrees. It kept on for about a year until he took Davey in for some vaccinations and someone just...walked out of the hospital with him.”   
  
Gwen did a double take. “David was  _ kidnapped? _ He’s never said anything!” _How did someone just **take** a baby? Was it that easy? That's fucking terrifying!_   
  
“He doesn’t know and he can’t remember, he was just a baby. Peter took him alone, so he always blamed himself and we didn’t use...legitimate means to get him back. After that, Peter just went into this hole and never came out. He started drinking, things fell through the cracks and he lost his badge.” Aster leaned her head into her hand and sighed heavily as she looked down at the floor, the most exhausted woman in the world. “He became convinced Willow and David were just better off with him gone, he and I got into a dreadful fight and he never came back after. I told him to go if he was going to go but I wouldn’t let him come back if that was his choice.”   
  
She traced her fingers on the chair arm and muttered, “I never should have said that.”   
  
Gwen didn’t usually doubt giving her opinion but she did at first. She wondered if she was right to encourage David to meet his father, who sounded like a very damaged man, and bring him back into his life. Not just that, but Peter would be walking into the town where all these horrible things happened to him. Wouldn’t that bring up some painful memories and complicate things? “Do you ever talk?”   
  
“I send him money to make sure his head is above water but we don’t speak.”   
  
“Do you miss him?”   
  
“All the time.”   
  
“I just want to know if he would ever hurt David, or hurt Max. If he knew who his father was, what would Peter do?”   
  
“He would never hurt his family. As for Max, I…” Aster faltered. “Max is a child and Peter wouldn’t do anything to harm him. But he might react poorly.”   
  
“So to summarize, in 1984 a cult took the town over. You and David’s dad took the law into your own hands and drove them out and killed the leader, who was Max’s _grandfather_ and it all got covered up? But these cultists are supposedly still around threatening people and wanting payback.”   
  
“Your listening comprehension is impeccable, dear.”

“Cut the smart assery,  _ why  _ haven’t you told David any of this?!”

“His parents sacrificed so much so that he and everyone else could have a life here again, and that meant leaving the past behind. David was never meant to have to fight for anything.”   
  
Gwen didn’t know she had stood up until she was already on her feet, gesturing angrily as she spoke, “That all changed when Max came into his life!” she shouted and Winifred lifted her head with a disgruntled whine at the volume. “If you had fucking been honest, maybe the Halloween shitshow wouldn’t have happened and maybe if I had known what we were up against, I would have figured out something better for Rishima! But because you kept us in the dark, we’ve been stumbling around ten steps behind Sunil.”   
  
“I promised his parents,” Aster whispered and Gwen’s face felt hot. “When you tell him--”   
  
“I said I wouldn’t.”   
  
“Don't bother, I know you lied. When you tell him, just make sure Max isn’t eavesdropping.”   
  
Gwen snapped her mouth shut and they stared at each other for a long time. She couldn’t deny she was right. Gwen had no intention of keeping any secrets from David. He might seem delicate and he was in some ways, but not like this, not when it came to taking care of the people around him. He  _ needed  _ to know. Aster stood up and picked up Gwen’s purse, then handed it to her. “And I know a sharp woman like you kept all of that in your mind, with or without your little notebook. Are you a writer?”   
  
Gwen grabbed her purse and held it defensively, all the hair on the back of her neck prickling with this woman so close, this  _ killer _ . “Trying to be.”   
  
“Stories are what make us who we are, both the ones we know and the ones that must never be told.”   
  
Gwen picked up her coat and donned it, zipping it up aggressively and Winifred stood up instinctively to say goodbye. “And which one is this?” she demanded coldly.    
  
She didn’t wait for Aster’s answer before she left. The whole drive back, she was craving a cigarette but instead she choked down a klonopin and sat in her car at a stop sign until someone beeped behind her to go, so she pulled over and put her head against the wheel until her heart stopped pounding.    
  
Rishima tried to tell her, in some ways. But she was so twisted up and broken down and hardly made sense at the best of times, Gwen never understood how deeply her fear of her husband ran. But now Gwen knew. He had fanatical devotion, murderous intent and a place to direct it.   
  


“What do I do?” she choked out.  _ What do I do? _ **_What do I do?_ **

How did she protect them? She was just one person, a girl with useless degrees and a less than stellar record with doing good by the people around her. She couldn’t fight, she didn’t have any form of power to retaliate. If he could be arrested, Aster would have figured out a way.   
  
_ Whatever I do, I can’t do it sitting here _ .   
  
When she got back, she crept into the house as quietly as she could and put her wet shoes on the mat by the door next to Max and David’s scuffed snow boots. She saw the puff of David’s red hair over the arm of the couch where he was stretched out in front of the fire, snoring softly and mumbling here and there as he dreamed. He had fallen asleep watching Planet Earth.   
  
Gwen had a sudden urge she couldn’t ignore and she tiptoed quickly up the stairs and slowed at Max’s door. So very slowly, she eased it open and there was a pale white light glowing under his quilt. Gwen smiled and crept up before she knocked on the blanket. With a muffled  _ fuck!  _ Max threw it off and glared up at her, his hair fluffy and full of static as he turned off his phone light he had been using to read.   
  
He blinked sleepily but kept glowering. “Creeper. Get out of my room.”   
  
“Brat. Go to sleep.”    
  
She took the book right out of his hands and Max flopped backwards into his pillows with a miserable sound. She didn’t miss him hiding a yawn under his arm as she tucked him back in. “Want me to stay?” she asked him.   
  
Max silently turned onto his side while facing her and nodded. Gwen ran her fingers along his back, his favorite, the way she did when he was struggling in the hospital months ago just to get some rest. He was always so tough. No matter how bad it got, he said no to the pain medication, determined to stand by his choice even when he was so young. Soon, he closed his eyes. “When do you go back?” he asked quietly.   
  
“What’re you talking about?”   
  
“California.”   
  
“Uh...I have to talk to David about that. I kind of planned to be around for a while, so you’re gonna have to get used to it, devil child.”   
  
“Oh, great. Most of my plans to drive you crazy take some time,” he smirked.   
  
“Ha ha. I’m going now, good night. No more reading, you need your sleep.”   
  
“Go awaaaay…”   
  
Gwen left the light in the hall on for him before she went back downstairs and David was upright and stretching. “Hi,” he smiled and idly rubbed his hand up and down his arm.    
  
“They took the cast off finally?”   
  
“Yep! Feels great. I hate casts,” David moved over so she could lounge on the couch beside him and she leaned over to see his arm. “Does it hurt?”   
  
“Not really. My wrist is stiff and it feels weird for a bit, but that goes away. I’ve always healed pretty fast, but you know that.” he laughed lightly and gestured to the various scars she witnessed him get at camp. When she tried to smile at him, his own faded. “Hey. What’s wrong?”   
  
_ He’s like a fucking service dog. He can smell emotional distress _ . Gwen laid her head back with a whine and covered her face with her hands. “Will you be pissed if I say I’m not ready to talk about it?”   
  
“Of course not. But...you will tell me, right?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Okay. As long as you do, I don’t mind waiting.”    
  
They shared a comfortable silence until Gwen turned her head to face him and he looked at her, his eyes searching her face with concern. “Anything I can do?” he asked softly.   
  
Gwen didn’t know if there was anything anyone could do. “Think you can play guitar?” she asked.   
  
He didn’t waste any time getting it and looked up at the ceiling before he sat down and abandoned the pick so he could strum with his fingers instead. Gwen didn’t tell him he couldn’t wake a kid that probably wasn’t asleep. 

  
“ _ Give me rust over gold like a strength when I'm old _

_ A balance between the light and dark and a cause to uphold _

_ Give me love over hate, a meaningful fate _

_ And an honest and humble ability to appreciate. _ ”   
  


Gwen laid down on the couch with her legs dangling over the side and listened to his voice, as she tried not to think about how to tell him the truth of his family legacy.    
  
She wasn’t ready to change everything.


	3. Chapter 3

“Max! We’re decorating, come on down!”   
  
“Dammit,” Max quickly shoved his project into the box and kicked it under his bed, then moved the blanket to conceal it further.  _ “Max? _ ”   
  
“I’m coming, just fucking hang on! God damn!”   
  
When he jumped over the last step on the stairs, he came face to face with David standing with his arms crossed and doing his very best to look disapproving. Max sighed internally and put his hands in his hoodie pockets, “What?”   
  
“You really have to cut down on the bad language, kiddo.”   
  
“Eat shit, David, just because a piece of paper says you’re _technically_ in charge of me doesn't mean you really are. Don’t start thinking that’s changed.”   
  
“That may be, but I’m the one that pays the wifi bill.”   
  
Max whipped his head up to glare at David, who was smiling with a smugness he only could’ve gotten from spending too much time around his favorite little tyrant. “You fucker, you wouldn’t _dare_.”   
  
“Go ahead and test me.”    
  
“Ugh, you are the f-- the  _ worst _ .” Max stomped into the living room and fell onto the floor dramatically by the coffee table, zeroing in on the cookies there. Gwen was typing away on her laptop, apparently having dug into a new writing project. “So you lost that argument, huh?”   
  
“Shut up.”    
  
“Be nice, you two,” David put on the record player and a warm, slightly crackly choir rendition of Silver Bells drifted through the living room. Max only knew it because he had heard David singing it for a few days now, but he actually didn’t know many of the carols. They never celebrated Christmas or any holidays. As gushy and annoying as David expectedly was, Max looked forward to doing all the cliche activities that came with it. He had no snippy comment when David gave him a package of ornaments to start hanging up, all soft gold orbs and pale amber crystal. White icicles and sparkly red holly berries, a couple of hand made ones that he and Gwen put together. One of them was a picture of them all at the zoo glued onto a snowflake and decorated with glitter glue.    
  
David carefully unpacked a box and produced an antique looking angel. She had a little gold wire halo, feathered wings and a flowing white dress with a gold sash and holly leaves and berries decorating her hair. “Last touch. My mom always let me put it on the tree top.” He declared with a smile.   
  
“Cool, so do it--  _ hey hey hey _ _!”_ Max yelped as Gwen picked him up. He squirmed to get free until David stuck the angel in his hands and he stopped, stunned.  _ Oh _ . Was this some kind of torch being passed on?    
  
Max stopped struggling and with Gwen’s help, he carefully put the angel on the tree top and she seemed to be smiling down at him. “Put me down already,” he grumbled and she dropped him. He tried not to make a big deal of it, but David’s consistent attempts to introduce family traditions was hard to accept.    
  
Every time he did, Max started to think about if David actually saw him as his own kid. His  _ son _ . And then he started to think about David being less his annoying counselor that had latched onto him like a helpful parasite and more like a parent and he wasn’t ready for that. He kicked those thoughts away. That meant accepting things were good and they could stay that way, and he wasn’t that far gone to believe that.    
  
“Moment of truth!” David cut into his inner monologue and he promptly plugged in the lights. As he crawled out from under the tree and stood back to look, Max gazed up and down. The soft pale yellow fairy lights made the whole tree glow a gentle gold and it was almost like it emanated its own source of warmth. He felt calmer just looking at it. “Wow.”   
  
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” David put his hand on Max’s shoulder. “You did a great job!”   
  
“It is pretty nice,” Gwen agreed. “My dad always tries to use every color in the universe on our tree. Looks terrible. He loves it.”   
  
“Oh, that reminds me! Peter sent us some packages!”   
  
Max exchanged a look with Gwen as David ran off to get them and he said quietly, “He’s mailing us shit now?”   
  
“I guess?” Gwen shrugged. Although she tried to seem like she was nonchalant, Max heard the tension in her voice loud and clear.    
  
David came back with three boxes all wrapped in the same reindeer print paper and slid them under the tree to wait for the day. “There. We can start putting presents under it, it’s officially a week until Christmas.”   
  
“Is he, uh...gonna visit?” Max asked, and David’s smile flickered. Gwen was giving him a very pointed look and he regretted it.    
  
“No,” David said after a pause. “I didn’t think we’d be ready for that. But he did ask if he could send gifts and I told him it was alright.”   
  
“But are you going to have him visit?”   
  
“Do you want to meet him, Max?” David looked down at him with a soft expression, and Max hated the sudden pressure to make what definitely felt like a  _ decision _ . “I--” he hesitated.   
  
“Hey! Has Max ever seen  _ Elf? _ ” Gwen interrupted suddenly.    
  
“I haven’t,”  _ Oh, thank fucking god.  _ “What is it? I don’t care. Let’s watch it.” And he made an escape to sit on the couch next to Gwen. He didn’t look at David to see if he noticed the obvious subject change, but by the time he looked up, David had left to get them popcorn.   
  
“I told you not to ask him about that shit,” Gwen said as she snapped her laptop shut with some force.    
  
“He brought him up, I thought he wanted to talk about him. I’m doing my best, alright? Leave me alone.”   
  
“Max.”   
  
He looked at her and shrank back at how serious her face was. “Y-yeah?”   
  
“If Peter does come here, you stay away from him.”   
  
_What the fuck?_   
  
He never got the chance to demand clarification, because David returned with their supplies and put the movie on.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Gwen rubbed her aching eyes as she read the same sentence over and over again. Writing dialogue never felt natural. There was something about it that always felt forced and clunky and no matter how much she tuned the sentences, she wasn’t happy. Maybe she was spending too much time on it.    
  


She looked up as the kitchen light flicked on, and didn’t get up. She heard Max and David’s quiet voices, the fridge opening, the stove being turned on, the whisk in a sauce pot. She knew this routine. Little bit of honey and cinnamon in some milk, warm it up and it would help Max feel sleepy enough to try to go back to bed.    
  
“Nobody is in the house, Max,” she heard David say gently. “It’s just me and Gwen here with you. I checked all the doors and the alarm. We’re safe.”   
  
She pretended not to see him leading Max by the hand through the hallway and back upstairs with his mug. About a half hour later, David came back down alone. “He’s okay,” he said before she asked and began cleaning up the table. “Nightmare?”   
  
“No, he got woken up by a noise outside. It was just a raccoon, but it scared him. He thought someone got in.” He sat down next to her and leaned his head against his hands with his elbows on his knees, letting out a long exhale. Gwen chewed on the inside of her cheek and reached over to rub his back. “It’ll get easier for him, David.”   
  
“It’s  _ not  _ getting easier, though.”   
  
“It hasn’t been that long, and the therapy is helping.”   
  
“Do you think this was happening to him the whole time at camp? And he just dealt with it alone?”   
  
She would be lying if she hadn’t thought about that, too. Did Max spend nights alone in his tent overwhelmed by fear and putting himself back together to appear normal in the daylight? How much of his acting out was just purely intended to hide it? “You were always trying to help him, David, you can’t blame yourself for not dealing with a problem you had no idea existed. I didn’t know, either.”   
  
“Do you think he’s happy here?” David looked at her, his brow furrowed with doubt and worry.    
  
She understood a little better when she saw him this way. Could David really be David if he lived his life with his back to a wall? This was why his parents made their choices. Why her own parents made theirs. Raising a kid was creating a future but to do that, they had to leave so much behind for that child’s sake. They had to do everything they could to keep them from inheriting their battles. “Happiest I’ve ever seen.” 

“I’m doing my best to make him  _ feel  _ safe, Gwen, but I just can’t shake off the feeling that it isn’t enough. And before I know it, he’ll be going to school and I’ll be working and the chances that something could happen will be bigger—“

“Jesus Christ, you have to stop.” Gwen brought her palm to her forehead in exasperation. “You can’t be there every second of every day, so stop  _ torturing  _ yourself over it.”

He sat up quickly and she pulled her hand away as he visibly clenched his jaw. “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you think he’s safe here?” He demanded.

Gwen could lie like she could breathe but not to David. He has always been such a good friend and given her his trust when it was probably misplaced. She couldn’t betray that. Gwen opened her laptop and moved it so he could see it more clearly. “I have to tell you some things.”

* * *

He could hear a chorus of  _ Davey, get down right now!  _ in his memory a s he slipped out the window and closed it with just a half inch open so he could get back in, but it wouldn’t sap the heat out. All the times he clambered out there to be alone only for Granda or his mom to come running out and demanding him to go back inside were fresh in his mind. It was probably stupid. It was icy and he could slip, but it was the only place he felt he could catch his breath without going too far from the house.

David stared at his phone and hovered over the contact reading  _ Peter _ before he finally hit call and listened to the dial. His anxiety ramped as the line picked up. 

_ “David?” _

“It’s me.”

_ “Pretty late to call. Are you okay?”  _ He sounded awkward but concerned nonetheless.  _ “You didn’t wake me.” _

He didn't feel conversational, he just went straight to the point. “What happened to me that made you go?”

_ “...What?”  _

“Something happened to me when I was a baby, and because of that you left. Not because you couldn’t handle Mom being sick, not because you didn’t love us enough. You left because you thought I wasn’t safe with you.” David ran his hand through his hair and dug his fingers in, trembling as he held back the urge to cry but it wasn’t stopping. "Or is that a lie?" 

_ “No! That’s not— I never thought those things! You weren’t safe, but I-I...I can  _ **_not_ ** _ talk about it with you.” _

“Why not?” David stood up and wobbled as a layer of snow slipped under his heel but he caught his balance. “I spent my  _ whole life  _ wondering why I wasn’t good enough! Why you abandoned me and my  _ dying  _ mother—“

_ “Okay! Okay, take a breath. I mean I can’t talk about it like this.”  _

_ Tap tap tap! _

David looked over and saw a wrathful Gwen knocking on the window.  _ Get the fuck back in here!  _ Her voice was muffled but he swore the glass rattled with her anger. 

He gestured for her to wait. “What do you mean?”

_ “I should say it to your face.” _

David was speechless.

_ “Can I do that?” _

“May...maybe...after New Year’s. I don’t know, I have to go. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this now.”

_ “David, wait—“ _

“Bye, Peter.”

_ “I do lo—“ _

He couldn’t hear that. He ended the call.

* * *

On December twenty third, David caught Max sneaking downstairs extra early in the morning as he was bringing newly chopped wood inside from the backyard.  _ Hmm. I wonder what he’s up to now _ . He thought and headed into the living room just as Max was standing up by the tree. “Hey, little bear! You’re up early.”

“Aw, shit!” Max spun around, startled. 

“Language,” David said automatically as he stacked the wood by the fire place. 

“Sor- _ ree _ .” Max ground out, not the slightest bit genuine but it was something. David craned his neck to look under the tree and saw several sloppily wrapped presents of various shapes and sizes that were not from any grown ups. There were even  _ To: From:  _ stickers filled out with his name and whoever they were for, with what were surely mean nicknames scribbled out on a few. Max was slowly inching away and red in the face, so David decided not to embarrass him by pointing it out. “Going back to bed?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s still Christmas break. What do you want to do?”

Max crossed his arms and thought about it. “I dunno, there’s not really much to do around here. I guess I’ll read.”

“Reading is fun!”

“Uh huh...can I hang out in your office?”

“Sure, I could use the company.” 

Max followed him upstairs with his shoulders hunched and grabbed his book from his room and various supplies. He had a designated armchair in David’s office now, and he curled up in it with his quilt and bear nice and cozy and started to read. David wondered if he spent so much time nearby because Max  _ liked  _ being around him or he was just scared to be alone. 

He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop to check on a few things. He had some emails from Mr. Campbell, mostly asking him to participate in some pyramid scheme or another but there was one that was  _ kind of  _ genuine about wishing them happy holidays. Other than that, all he really had to do was work on some song lyrics and respond to some messages from his boss. 

“Why do you keep those?” 

David followed where the boy pointed up to the tops of his book shelves where the antique statuettes of the archangels sat. He supposed keeping religious things around would prompt some questioning. “They were my moms. She collected them. I like to keep them here, especially Raphael. It makes me feel like she kind of...watches over me through them.” He didn’t think Max would mock him, but he worried. Old habits die hard.   
  
But Max didn’t. He closed his book slowly and ran his thumb over the ends of the pages. “Which one is that?”   
  
David smiled in relief and stood up. He easily reached and took the right statue down so Max could take a look at it but when he offered it to him, Max shrank back and looked like he was offering him a live snake. “Uh-- um--  _ no _ . I’ll break it.”   
  
“Huh? No, you won’t…It’s okay, kiddo, you can look at them. My mom let me and I was way less trustworthy around delicate stuff.”   
  
With the reassurance, Max put his book down and accepted it so he could look over the delicate china and its intricately painted features. “Do they all have names?” he asked, his fingers visibly shaking. Something was wrong. David wasn’t sure what. Maybe the religion thing, with his father, but Max would just leave or say something.   
  
“They sure do. They’re all the archangels of heaven and they govern over something important. Raphael is the angel of healing.”    
  
“Ohhh, okay, I get it. Your mom was a doctor.”   
  
“That’s right,” David smiled. “A trauma surgeon. Do you want me to tell you about the other ones?”   
  
“Only if you want to,” Max fiddled with the statue and handed it back, keeping his head down. David slowly took it back and took down the next one and Max was still apprehensive about examining it. “Max, if it makes you uncomfortable to learn about this--”   
  
“It’s not that.” He turned it around in his hands and sank deeper into the chair as though trying to disappear. It was a familiar sight. “It’s-- this is really weird for me. My father had an office.”   
  
David’s stomach turned. He always got a sick feeling when this came up but Max so rarely openly tried to talk about what happened before he came to camp, David couldn’t let it show and risk him bottling it up again. He sat down on the floor so he wasn’t just looming above him and waited quietly for him to go on. “I wasn’t allowed inside and if I even got close to the door, it-- it was so  _ bad _ . But when I did go in, it was to get taught a ‘lesson’. I hated that fucking place. He kept it freezing cold, there wasn’t any color, it was all white and I still have nightmares about it. And it’s like a thing, dads have offices, y’know?”   
  
Max stopped. He looked at David, pale. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to swear.”   
  
“It’s okay, sometimes it’s allowed. And you probably know better than I do when,” he added the last part as a joke and Max looked a little less nervous. “What do you mean ‘dads have offices?’”   
  
“Neil’s dad has one, he isn't allowed in it. Granda has one and even you do, which is weird but you let me in here like it’s our space. You let me read the books, touch the stuff in here, come in and out as long as I tell you when I do. Don’t you think I’m going to mess something up?”   
  
“What? No, of course I don’t!”   
  
Max chewed on the inside of his lip before he blinked quickly and took a sharp breath. “He called me a parasite.”   
  
“Max,” David was appalled. “You are  _ not _ . I love you and nothing is ever going to change that. I want you in my life, I want you  _ here _ .”   
  
The kid was silent as he slowly nodded and fought back a trembling lip and tears with deep breaths and gripping the angel tightly before he sat up. David understood immediately and wrapped his arms around Max, rubbing his back gently. When he was ready, he pushed David away but he looked less like he was about to burst into tears. David found a certain book that explained the archangels and passed it down to Max, “Here. It’s way under your reading level but it’ll answer most of your questions and the pictures are pretty.”   
  
“Cool,” Max flipped through the pages, his eyes quickly comprehending the words but he did linger on the elaborate illustrations. “David?”   
  
“Mhm?”   
  
“Do we have any books about Hinduism? Like, all the gods and holidays and stuff.”   
  
David smiled and ruffled Max’s hair as he stood and went back to his desk, “Not yet, but maybe Santa will bring you some.”   
  
  


* * *

  
  


“Just one, Max, so choose wisely.”   
  
Max didn’t want to seem excited, so he tried to look like he grabbed a random present from under the tree and plunked down on the floor. But before he tore into it, he glanced up. David smiled and nodded _ go ahead _ . The fire crackled merrily away and Gwen was already into her second helping of irish cream for the night, now that it was officially Christmas Eve and according to her, she wasn’t touching eggnog ever again.    
  


David picked up the other corresponding gifts for him and Gwen and they opened them together, all from Granda. 

  
The paper tore away easily and revealed a pair of teddy bear slippers and a set of pajamas to go with them, dark blue and covered with snowflakes for the season. They were pretty soft, Max had to admit, and he pulled them from the box to see a smaller set of the same underneath. “Who’re these for?”   
  
“I think they’re for Mr. Honeynuts,” Gwen snickered.   
  
“ _ Jesus _ . How old does he think I am?”   
  


“I think it’s cute!” David proclaimed and produced his own garish Christmas tree patterned set, complete with green flannel slippers. Gwen had something similar but purple and reindeer instead. “And the rule is we have to sleep in our Christmas ‘jammies and wear them all day tomorrow.”   
  
“Don’t say jammies, it’s stupid.” Max rolled his eyes. He had about all he could take of the holiday pep from David, and he looked at the clock above the mantle. It was almost time for bed, so he stood up with the box. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed.”   
  
“Okie dokie, come back down before you go to sleep. I want to read something to you first!”    
  
Max was about to snap that he didn’t need a bedtime story when he was eleven fucking years old but David looked so bright eyed and excited to read him one that it actually felt monstrous to tell him no. That, and Gwen was giving him a pretty menacing don’t you dare look to top it. So he groaned a dramatic “Fine,” and went upstairs.   
  
He came back down in his new pajamas, toting his quilt since it was chilly in the stair case and hall nearby the front door, and sat down between Gwen and David. Gwen wrapped him up snugly in the quilt and David put his arm around him. Max was too sleepy to complain and didn’t really want to, as he leaned against David’s side and watched him open the book. It was a little aged and beaten and he saw an inscription written on the inside cover in pretty calligraphy.    
  
_ Happy first Christmas, Willow! _ _  
_ _ ~Love Mummy and Daddy _   
  
“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds;

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads…”

  
  
David read softly and when he finished the stanza, Gwen chimed in to read the next. They alternated between them as David turned the pages and their warm voices grew softer the further along they got. Max’s eyelids felt pretty heavy by that point.

  
  
“He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—

_ “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night! _ ”

  
  
David closed it and looked down at Max with a smile before he set it aside. “Tired, buddy?”   
  
“No,” Max mumbled and closed his eyes. He simply couldn’t keep his head up or even try to uncurl from his blanket cocoon. He was distantly aware of David sliding an arm behind his shoulders and under his knees, then being lifted off of the couch and moved through the room. Then he was put down on his soft bed and David turned out the light.   
  
When Max woke up, he heard more music playing downstairs and several voices bubbling up through the floor. He scrunched up his face as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and crept out from the warmth of his blanket and found his new slippers to avoid touching the cold floor. Still a normal day, he reminded himself and shuffled to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.    
  
Once he felt marginally more awake and capable of socializing, he went downstairs in time to see Gwen helping Adaire over the threshold, giving him an extra hand as he wobbled on his cane. “Bloody cold, they should just cut the damn thing off!” he was grumbling before he saw Max and his face lit up. “Happy Christmas, Maxie!”   
  
“It’s just Max. Uh...thanks for the presents.”    
  
“You’re very welcome-- I can do that, dearie, thank you.” He shooed Gwen away as she tried to take his scarf for him and took his time hanging up his layers among all the others.    
  
“Who else is here?” Max asked her as she stepped around the pile of shoes and he followed her into the kitchen, where Louis was milling around with Victoria as they undertook various food projects. Missy was circling around their feet, hoping for something to drop and wearing a doggy Christmas sweater that jingled quietly with tiny bells sewn to it. On pure instinct, Max yelled at the top of his lungs  _ “MISSY!” _ and she spun her head around, ears swinging.    
  
He dropped to the floor and she bounded up to him into his arms and he hugged her, grinning broadly as she covered his cheek in kisses. “Hi, hi, hi, hi,” he whispered rapidly to her and scratched her head. Moments later, a huff of hair and a cold wet nose tickled his ear and he looked up to come face to face with Winifred, who perked her ears hopefully at him. Max instantly scooted until his back was against the wall so she could flop down with her head on his lap and he gladly gave her the attention she was begging for.    
  


“Hi, babycakes,” Vicky ruffled his hair and a necklace of blinking lights twinkled around her neck. “Want some breakfast?”   
  
“Yes, please.”   
  
Winifred stayed close by but sat up as Missy began to climb over her, gently nipping at her ears and trying to get her to play. Winifred would occasionally push her down with one giant paw and send Missy zipping around before she did her best to tackle a dog four times her size and it started all over again. He wanted to stay there watching them and giggling hilariously at their ridiculous antics, but Victoria ushered him to the table to eat after a little bit. Louis put down a cup of coffee in front of him and gave him a wink, “Don’t tell your old man it’s not decaf.” and went back to turning over hashbrowns.   
  
“I heard that,” Gwen said as she came in and poured herself a cup as well. “You get one of those, Max.”   
  
_ Christmas day truly is full of miracles _ , he thought smugly. David really was forcing him to eat and drink like a normal kid which had its benefits but to say that the caffeine withdrawals definitely made Max cranky was the understatement of the decade. He looked around and realized he only saw Vicky, Adaire and Louis and two people were missing. “Vicky, where’s Aster? And David?”

It was the most crowded the house had been since Max’s birthday, but distinctly quiet without David there. Gwen sat down next to him with a smirk and dropped his stocking onto the table. “Dig in.”   
  
“I asked you a question.”   
  
“Here’s your answer.”   
  
Max squinted at her suspiciously but pushed his now empty plate away and began to look through the stocking. He pulled out a tennis ball first and frowned. Next came some small hand held plastic thing with a metal prong-- a clicker, he had seen Aster training Winifred with it. Wheels started to turn in Max’s head as he pulled out a pack of puppy treats next, a tug of war rope, a harness, leash and collar. His heart was pattering away in his chest and he looked straight at Gwen who was grinning ear to ear.    
  
It must have been planned, because he heard the front door open and Aster call out, “We’re here!” followed by David’s bright laugh and their feet stomping snow off.    
  
Max jumped down from his chair and practically sprinted to the front hallway in time to see David trying to calm a squirmy bundle wrapped in a towel against the cold in his arms. “Okay, okay, easy, calm down,” he was saying before he looked up and saw Max standing there clutching the tug of war rope with the widest eyes ever. “I think he’s figured it out,” Aster said helpfully.   
  
David carefully lowered the bundle and freed the little puppy from her swaddle. She was a little smaller than Missy, mottled gray and brown with a long tail, a short coat and one dark bluish gray patch over her right eye. The same color covered most of her back in large splotches among the speckling. Her ears stood up a bit, but the tips flopped forward, almost like a Jack Russel’s. “ _ Oh my god! _ ”   
  
“She’s an Australian cattle dog,” Aster started to say as Max dropped straight to the floor, scared to get too close and scare her as she perked her head up. She got right onto all four paws with her tail straight up curiously as she looked at him with warm, honey brown eyes. “And she doesn’t have a name yet.”   
  
He put his hand against the floor and she seemed to take it as a sign to creep forward with her head a bit lower to smell it, then tentatively licked his palm and Max squeaked in delight. He tried to scratch the underside of her chin and she stared straight at him as he did, kind of more boldly than he expected a dog to. But her tail started to wag faster, showing she was happy and she moved close enough to stand with her front paws on his knee to smell his face. “It’s up to you to give her one.” David added.   
  
Everything screeched to a halt as Max stopped halfway to petting her ears and just looked at David to confirm what he thought he was saying. “Wa-wait, wait wait wait.  **Wait** .”   
  
“I know you’re responsible enough, but I have to say it just because. It’s up to you to feed her, brush her and walk her and keep up on her training--”   
  
“She’s _ mine?” _   
  
David smiled, and nodded, as the puppy climbed wholly onto his lap and planted her paws on his shoulder so she could start giving him kisses on his cheek, apparently no longer nervous around this strange, loud little creature she just met. Max’s throat tightened and his eyes stung a little as he looked down at her and she let him pick her up in his arms now and actually pet her. “She’s my dog?”   
  
“Yeah, buddy, she’s your dog. Do you like her?”   
  
Max had to hide his face in her fur to avoid looking like he was the kind to cry tears of joy because he wasn’t but he took preventative measures just in case. All he could get out was a whiny, choked up “ _ I love her, _ ” in response.   
  
When David was finally able to get him off the floor, he carried her into the living room and began introducing her to the house. Louis and Gwen kept the other dogs gated in the kitchen so the puppy wasn’t overwhelmed right away but Max completely forgot about all of his other presents as he coached her to chase the ball and then had to run around after her to get it back, with her playfully growling and even yipping with it still in her mouth.    
  
  
But finally, he had to sit down and settle for just petting her as everyone filed in and Aster passed out gifts. Max happily discovered more dog toys, but also a new supply of thread, yarn and beads for his projects, a ton of film and other such things to take his photography further, a book of Studio Ghibli music for the piano from David and Aster had taken the liberty of getting him a blue mountain bike and helmet. Gwen got him a new bullet journal and a book full of advice for writing beginners. Victoria had supplied him with practically a whole new shelf of books about Hinduism, Indian history, proverbs and poetry and a mandala coloring book. David saved Peter's gifts for later to open when Adaire wasn't around.   
  
He got very quiet towards the end, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of being freely given things he liked for no other purpose but to make him happy. The puppy laid against his leg, her eyes half closed as she was pretty tired from all the excitement but she nosed his hand, almost like she knew.   
  
“Last ones and they’re from Max,” Aster announced and anxiety spiked up Max’s back. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _ “They’re-- they’re not good. They’re home made.” he excused, suddenly terrified. Why did he think it was a good idea?   
  
“I donnae believe that for one second, let me see-- thank ye very much.” Adaire took his gift and produced a thick fuzzy red hat with a poofy pom pom on top. He promptly pulled it on, leaned his elbow on his chair arm with his chin in his hand and looked at David. It looked completely outrageous above his stern face. He looked like a Mr. Smee who had been  _ angrily  _ hitting the gym. “Whaddya think? Do I do it justice?”   
  
“I think it’s great!” David exclaimed as Aster burst out laughing and Max smiled down at the floor.    
  
He showed Gwen how her knitted gift fitted over her own journal and had a nice pocket to put her pens in, and Aster adored her green socks. Vicky had to demonstrate how her new shawl flowed by spinning around in it like Stevie Nicks would and David made this stupid teary eyed smile as he unfolded a quilt Max had pretty much slaved over.    
  
Sure, some squares weren’t perfectly even. But he did his best to make a pattern. It was mostly different shades of green but he had attached them in a pattern that roughly formed an oak tree shape in the middle. He put it around his shoulders and wasted no time squashing Max in a tight hug. “Sic him,” he whispered to the puppy. “Attack mode!”   
  
She yawned squeakily and blinked at him, unimpressed by the command. Max wouldn’t hug David back in front of everybody but he thankfully let go and they spent the rest of the day snacking, playing with the dogs and playing board games together.   
  
But one by one, everyone filtered out. Aster mussed up his hair and told him, “keep working on your aim, outlaw,” with a wink and Victoria peppered his face with kisses before she went. As he wiped off her lipstick, Adaire patted him on the back and tossed his old hat at David, “Hand-me-down for ye, I have no need for it anymore,” and was on his way.    
  
Louis hugged Gwen tightly and kissed her head, and Max tried not to eavesdrop but he heard a little bit. “You don’t have to come home if you don’t want to, but you always can, sweetie.”   
  
“I’m okay, Dad…”   
  
“Yeah. You’re the toughest cookie I know. But I’m here no matter what.”   
  
“Thanks, Dad. Thanks for coming, I--It was good.”   
  
They hugged one more time and he waved goodbye before he headed off with Missy.    
  
Max looked back at his blue heeler who was practically passed out with her belly up as Gwen came back in and finished helping David throw away all of the wrapping paper. Max scratched her tummy and she still wagged her tail even in her deep snooze.    
  
He watched David go out the garage door and he suddenly got to his feet to follow. He hurried down the steps and hugged his arms around himself against the freezing cold air, his breath steaming in front of his face as David turned around between the can and the car after putting the bag in the recycling. He blinked, “Max? Go back inside, it’s much too cold for y-- Oh!”   
  
Max threw his arms around David’s middle and held on tightly.  _ I love you _ , went through his mind but he just said, “Thank you.” _ For this house and my own room and letting me put the angel on the tree and the puppy.  _

_ Thank you for everything _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the very, very late holiday chapter! I know I originally was going to go with a dachsund for Max, but then I remembered this blue heeler I worked with when I was training/supervising dogs at this daycare/foster place. I wasn’t able to take him home but he was my best buddy and I hope whoever took him home knows how amazing he is. At least he didn’t end up getting named Mad Max by my dad! Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy the gushiness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a pretty rough time for me as of late y'all, but I think I'm okay. We'll see. It felt good to get this chapter done. Thanks for the patience.

Max picked the little dog up and snuggled her in his arms before making sure nobody could see him and kissed the top of her head. When he put her down, she tried to follow him through the house and Max turned back, misery mixing with his excitement. “Sorry, girl, I gotta go. I’ll be back in a few hours and we’ll play then.”

  
  
She huffed and sat down and when he tried to nudge her away, she nipped at the toe of his shoe to try and get him to chase her. The horn outside beeped, and Max steeled himself into turning and not looking back as he left. He heard her barking sharply in the window as she clambered up on the back of the couch to watch him leave. A  _ very  _ unhappy puppy.

“Raksha will be okay,” David said as he got into the back seat. It was weird seeing him so nicely dressed, with a tie and everything, even a messenger bag full of papers and folders. “She’ll find something to do, nap, get some treats from Gwen and before she knows it, you’ll be home!”

  
  
Max sank down in his seat and stared at his lunchbox and backpack next to him. He hadn’t been to school in so long and they had always been private. He had never been allowed to choose what he got to wear and he would be there with regular kids and David would be somewhere in the building in case anything happened.

  
  
_ But nothing is going to happen _ , he reminded himself.

  
  
“Your music class is after lunch,” David went on. “And I’ll see you then and then we’ll go home together after three.”

  
  
“Alright.”

  
  
“Are you feeling nervous? It’s okay if you are.”

  
  
Max wouldn’t dignify that with an answer and held his tongue all the way until David parked in the teacher lot and let him out. He tried to hold his hand but Max yanked it away,  _ “we’re in public!” _ and just followed him through the front doors to the office.

  
  
As David got signed in and picked up some things in his teacher mailbox, he chatted with the front office secretary. She seemed nice enough, a portly woman in her sixties with bright pink cat eye glasses and drinking from a hand painted mug covered in flowers. “I’m so glad to see you’re well, David. The substitute was a sweetheart but the kids missed you so much! All of the grades made you Get Well cards, I put them in your mailbox for you.”

  
  
“Aw, that’s so sweet of them! I am glad to be back. Thanks, Mrs. Acosta, I’ll look at them on my break.”

  
  
Max tried to stick close to his side until the secretary noticed him and she gave him a friendly wave. “And who is this? New student?”

  
  
“This is m--” Max looked at him sharply and David switched from what was going to be a ‘my’ to, “Max Purohit, he’s starting in the Assisted Education program! I’m getting him settled in, it’s his first day.”

  
  
“I see. Welcome to the school, Max. Do you have any allergies?”

  
  
His mind was reeling from being talked to so much right out of the gate. “Uh-- no?”

  
  
“Good!” She opened a drawer to reveal an absolute hoard of fun sized candies. “I normally have a ‘take one’ policy but take a whole handful to get you through your first day.”

  
  
“Whoa. Um, thanks, that’s-- that’s really nice.”

  
  
Max took a modest amount and put them in the front pocket of his lunchbox, then zipped it shut and David smiled down at him, apparently proud for some reason. “I’m going to take him to his homeroom now, but I’ll see you around. Thank you for getting this stuff together for me, it makes coming back so much easier.”

  
  
“Of course. Have a good day, you two.”

  
  
David led him out of the office and through the quiet hallways. They were at least twenty minutes early, but Max did see a group of students laughing and hollering as they ran past with instrument cases. He saw a boy with his hair dyed bright green, a girl wearing an alligator backpack, all sorts of colors and expressive traits he never saw at his previous schools. “Why are they here early?”

  
  
“Orchestra kids have early morning rehearsal on Mondays, after school rehearsal on Thursdays.” David turned the opposite corner and kept walking. “Maybe you could join!”

  
  
“Maybe  _ not _ . What would I play?”

  
  
“The piano? You’re very good!”   
  


“I don’t want to play in front of anyone, David, so don’t freaking ask. Why’d you stop walking?”

“This is your classroom,” David opened the door before them and there were already a few students inside chatting or working alone around the desks. It had colorful posters, book shelves, a reading nook and so on. Much livelier than his previous class rooms. “You shouldn’t use your phone unless the teacher lets you but if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask her if you can text your da--”

  
  
“I won’t need anything.” And Max headed inside the room before anyone noticed him standing with one of the  _ teachers  _ for too long. He wanted to keep to himself as much as possible and so he didn’t even think to look back at the expression on David’s face until he heard the door shut. David was gone. 

Off to his job, somewhere in a large building Max didn’t know his way through and for the next several hours Max would only get to see him in music class.  _ Get to. Jesus. I’ve been alone with him for too long if I’m  _ **_actually_ ** _ looking forward to that.  _ He hurriedly tried to find a desk towards the back before he was noticed like the unhammered nail he was by the others and placed his bag down under it and sat. Max made sure to take out his book quickly and focus on reading it to look as unapproachable as possible but over the top of the pages, he surveyed his classmates.

There was a roughly even distribution between boys and girls, but still not enough students to take up every available desk. Most of them were actually chatting with each other and he did catch a few of them looking at him. One boy with a bright blond hair and an equally bright Adventure Time shirt waved at him and Max quickly hid behind his book again.  _ This is too normal. How am I supposed to make any friends under these circumstances? Can’t even stage any rebellions without consequences _ .

He flinched as a shrill bell rang through the school and students scrambled ungracefully, laughing openly as they did, into their seats as the teacher herself closed the door and headed to the front. “Good morniiiing!” She said in a sing-songy voice, smiling brightly. 

She had very, very long black straight hair with some gray in it parted down the middle that nearly went to her waist and she was dressed in a colorful sweater, tie dye shirt as well and a set of overalls. Her skin was a light tan color weathered with smile lines and her dark, dark coffee colored eyes had a twinkle that gave her a soft, friendly grandma kind of look. Her students, except for Max, echoed, “Good morning, Mrs. Kim!” while she set down a binder and began opening it. 

  
  
Max flinched and dug his fingertips into the desk as a long tone blared somewhere over his head and he whipped his head around until he found the speaker responsible, which then crackled with a child’s voice, “Please rise for the Pledge of Allegiance.”

  
  
_ Ugh. I forgot they did this nationalist bullshit in public schools. _ Max stayed in his seat, having absolutely no desire to stand in a huddle and chant meaningless words he bet half the kids in this building didn’t understand. But then his eyes wondered the room as other kids stood up and he tensed his legs, wondering if maybe he should just to--

  
  
He saw a girl staring over her shoulder at him who had started to stand up but then she slowly sat down when she saw him. She had the most perfect dark brown French braid he’d ever seen; weird thing to note about her but it’s what stood out. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but Max stayed in his chair. 

  
  
Everyone else sat down to listen to the morning announcements, rotating through different students who went over the lunch menu, club announcements and so on. “After school rehearsal for Jazz Choir will be meeting in the band auditorium instead of room D230 today. The library will be holding the Dungeons and Dragons meeting in the study area, please bring your own pens! The bathroom in the math wing is still under repairs. The following bathrooms are still in working ord--”

  
  
Max tuned it out and started to scratch at the eraser of his pencil, mindlessly picking it apart as the droning stopped filtering into his ears. It quieted and he only looked up again when the teacher started talking. “I hope everyone had a good winter break.” she said cheerily, uncapping a green dry erase marker and heading to the white board. “Let’s go around the room and share our highlights and at the same time, we can break the ice with our new classmate! We’ll start with the front row. Monica?”

  
  
Fuck, he didn’t think she’d acknowledge him right out of the gate. Max slouched as much as he could without outright falling under his desk and focused ever more intensely on destroying the eraser until she reached the back row, his row, and kids continued sharing what they did for Christmas, Hannukah or whatever. 

  
  
Then it was his turn. He wished he could opt out. He wished everyone wasn’t looking at him. The teacher smiled at him in what she probably intended to be an encouraging manner, but David could’ve done it much better. Max slowly sat up and hid his hands under the desk, taking a breath. Since when was speaking in front of a group so hard? He had no trouble in camp. 

  
  
Except in camp, he was the ruling authority. Here, he was just another kid. “What’s your name?” French-braid girl asked. 

  
  
“Max Pur…”

  
  
He trailed off, having to swallow all of a sudden. “We can’t hear you,” a boy called out and got shushed by someone. Max’s face felt  **hot** . “Max Purohit,” he spat out more aggressively than he meant to. A few eyebrows went up like  _ yikes. New kid has issues _ .

  
  
“It’s very good to meet you, Max. Are you from Sleepy Peak?” Mrs. Kim was leading the conversation pointedly for his sake.

  
  
“I’m from Portland, but I moved here last summer.”

  
  
“Got any siblings?” French-braid girl asked. Max was oddly grateful for her contribution. 

  
  
“Nope, I’m one of a kind.” and that got a few smiles. “Not unless you count the puppy.”

  
  
“You have a puppy?” someone blurted out excitedly.

  
  
“My...dad…got her for me for Christmas.”  _ Weird, weird,  _ **_weird_ ** _. David’s not ‘my dad’ he’s just David.  _ “Her name is Raksha. Like the Jungle Book? We’re going to get her trained as my therapy dog--”

  
  
“Why do you need a therapy dog?”

  
  
It was like ice was dropped down his back. Fight or flight activated. Max looked slowly over to the boy who asked it, who was outright sneering at him, thinking he had started the funniest joke of the year. “Are you special or something?”

  
  
He was about to lay into him. He saw five things he could make a ruthless speech out of but before he could, the teacher stepped in, “Okay, let’s not be mean. Therapy dogs do important jobs and congratulations, Max, having a puppy is a wonderful thing. I hope she has fun in her training. Now, everyone get your Literature textbooks out, we’re going to pick up on chapter eighteen. Let’s partner up for the reading handout, I’ll draw name sticks...Oh, Max doesn’t have one yet. Does anyone want to be his partner?”

  
  
“I will,” French-braid girl piped up without raising her hand. 

  
  
“Thank you, Kat.”

  
Max reeled. There had to be an ulterior motive for jumping so quickly to his aid. It has to be performative, he thought, picking at the zipper of his pencil bag as kids shuffled around to sit at the tables with their partners. He made sure he was busy getting his textbook out of his backpack as Kat waded through students and tables to seat herself at the chair next to him and plunked her own book down. “Hey.”

  
  
“Hey.” 

  
  
She adjusted her glasses on her nose, square 80’s style but with bright red frames and tilted her head at him, staring hard. “...You don’t remember me, huh?”

  
  
“We’ve never--” Where would he remember her from? She wasn’t a camper, he didn’t really go anywhere that he would meet other kids except the flower shop and the cafe across from it-- “Oh, shit! Glasses girl!” 

  
  
She grinned at him and he noticed instantly something was different and maybe that was why he didn’t recognize her at first. “You don’t have braces anymore.”

  
  
“Yeah, I got them off during the break.”

  
  
“Cool. Was your dentist creepy?”

  
  
“I’m pretty sure he has a cabin no one knows about in a densely wooded area.”

  
  
Max laughed, natural with no amount of faking it at all and it felt  _ good _ . All at once, the initial anxieties melted away and he felt his chest loosen up for easy breathing. He liked a macabre sense of humor; it meant he didn’t have to hold back his own and it wasn’t all on him to carry a decent conversation. “That’s great, since I live by a densely wooded area.”

  
  
“It’s Sleepy Peak. Who the fuck doesn’t?” Kat opened her book to the page and they had to quiet their snickering as the teacher came by with the work sheets but they fell into an easy banter as they razed through the chapter and quickly completed the work before most other students. Kat wasn’t just funny, she was smart and he hoped maybe he would end up having her to work with in class more often. He wasn’t willing to shoulder any extra group project weight if he could help it. It helped that she was eager to see pictures of Raksha and with their spare time, they pulled their personal books from their packs to compare. She was reading The Hobbit and he was still making his way through The BFG David had given him, but she eagerly showed him the map illustration on the inside cover and described graphic battle scenes and the like. 

  
  
It was definitely a Neriss thing but the way Kat made it sound, it wasn’t at all boring. “I thought Tolkien books were ninety percent British rambling fluff.”

  
  
“Oh, they can. But you can spot a paragraph that’s only about what grass looks like and skip it easy. You can borrow my copy when I’m done with it if you want.”

  
  
“Sure. We can trade.”

  
  
“Cool,” Kat turned back to her book and they read quietly, occasionally commenting on the story until they moved on to the next subject. Math, social studies and so on and so forth until the lunch period came along and it was time to wander their way to the cafeteria. Max shouldered his backpack and lingered by his desk until the class had thinned out, not wanting to get caught in the swarm and noticed Kat doing the same. She gave him another smile and joined him at the doorway and into the hall, silently agreeing to walk together. 

  
  
She reminded him of Nikki in the way that she was energetic and cheerful, but she was definitely nerdy, if the twenty sided dice pattern on her backpack was a tell. “I can’t believe they do that,” she said, pointing to the kids that ran out into the sheltered area with picnic tables to eat in the outdoors. It was an open recess area between two areas of the school but had a bridge like hallway that went over it on the second floor, which she helpfully told him was nicknamed the Underpass. “It’s nice when it’s warm, though. Do you like the outdoors?”

  
  
“It depends. I kind of have to, with how much all the fucking adults around me love it.”

  
  
“Your dad’s an outdoor guy?”

  
  
There it was again, that weird feeling but Max didn’t want to make it awkward by correcting her. “Big time. Hiking, camping, bonfires, star gazing, he’ll do it all. But he makes it fun, even if he’s super anal about safety. He makes me wear this everywhere,” and he showed her the paracord bracelet. “And I can’t even justify taking it off when he’s not around, since he got his point proven.”

  
  
“His point?”

  
  
“Long story short, it came in handy in an emergency. Like he said it would.”

  
  
“Oof. Annoying.”

  
  
“Yep...Anyway, I don’t spend a lot of time out when it’s cold. Asthma. Would if I could, though.”

  
  
“I get that. Cold isn’t great for me either,” Kat got a wistful expression on her face and it lasted long enough that he almost asked but she shook it off and turned the bend into the cafeteria. They found a sheltered spot towards the wall at the doors and Max opened up his lunchbox to see what nonsense healthy junk David had packed him. He found some carrots and blue cheese dip, a big fat snickerdoodle cookie, crackers and a thermos with a sticky note on it. There was a doodle of a rooster and scrawled words.  _ Good job getting up early for your first day! Make sure to eat your carrots, little bear. See you for music class. Love, David _

Max unscrewed the thermos top and looked inside, then smiled. “You're kidding me.” 

“What? Is it something gross?”

“No, it’s actually really good. It’s cockaleeky soup.”

Kat stared at him for a moment. Her mouth twitched. And then she burst out laughing as Max nodded and began stirring it with the spoon, “Yep, it’s kind of an inside joke. That’s really what it’s called, though. It’s like Scottish chicken soup.”

“That’s awesome. Did your dad make it? My dad can’t cook anything.”

“He’s  _ okay _ at cooking. He hasn’t poisoned me so far.”

“He still has seven years to do it.”

  
  
It was funny, but Max still thought to himself David would never do anything bad to me. And he was oddly comforted by that certainty. He had so little of it to go around but he kept that one close, held it previously in a clenched fist and wouldn’t let it go. “What about your mom?”

Max crushed his cookie. The only noise was the rabble of other noisy kids around them, grades three through five, as he gingerly dust brown sugar and cinnamon off his hand. Kat silently handed him her napkin and Max thanked her reflexively. 

“My mom, too.” She said after a bit. 

Max stared at her. She stared back, unblinking with very round hazel eyes that struck him as older than an eleven year old and she smiled at him and shrugged. “Don’t make a big deal about it, okay? You don’t have to. I’m sick of people saying sorry, like...what, you had something to do with it?”

Max swallowed uncomfortable and tried to joke, “Next time someone says sorry, you should grab them and yell  _ ‘what do you know?!’ _ In their face.”

“I am  _ definitely _ going to do that.” 

They didn’t talk about it anymore. They talked about video games and dogs, until the bell rang and it was time to rejoin their class. Max shouldered his backpack but gripped the straps in anticipation for them all to line up behind their teacher to follow her to the music room. It really wasn’t a long walk but it somehow felt that way, with him torn between praying David wouldn’t embarrass him but also being relieved to see a familiar face. Soon, they came to a door decorated with music notes and posters of composers and he could see David through the window, in his dumb teacher tie, as he was writing something on the white board.

Everyone shuffled in and a few kids managed to get loose to tap the piano or a nearby xylophone before they sat on the risers. Max slowed his steps, wondering if David would acknowledge him but he didn’t.

He sat down next to Kat, who squinted at the board through her glasses and then down at the floor. “Oh my god,  _ yes.” _

“What?”

“So third graders learn the recorder but fourth graders get to learn the ukulele.”

_ God dammit, David. This is not a fucking stepping stone to guitar. Don’t even try to make it _ . 

The whole class, David didn’t seem to pay him any special mind and Max was surprised at the very least. He cheerily chatted with everyone about their winter break and then plunked down at the piano to lead them in some warm ups, the stupid warm ups Max could hear him singing in the morning that he learned to love and hate.  _ “One bottle pop, two bottle pop,  _ **_three bottle pop,_ ** _ four bottle pop…” _

Once done, he went around giving everyone paper booklets.  _ Ukulele for Beginners.  _ “Okie dokie! I know we’ve all been excited for this the whole year and it’s finally come. Now, those of you with the permission slip signed can take your instrument home but if you don’t, it has to stay in the classroom. Let’s hand them in.”

  
Kat took out a green paper and Max peeled into his folder for music class to find he had one, too, which was quickly passed on and soon he had a small case in his hands. He spent the class period overthinking how David could possibly be so casual about teaching about strings, basic tuning and the like until it was all over and their homeroom teacher came back for them.

  
  
Max shouldered the instrument case and hung back once more as the rest of the class went, but Kat stopped and looked at him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  
  
“Nothing? I just have a question.”

  
  
“Oh. Okay. See you back in the room?”

  
  
“I’ll catch up in the hallway.”

  
  
He saw her hesitation but Kat went on her way and once Max was sure no one was around, he turned to face David who was idiotically beaming at him. “Max! Did you already make a not zero, not three but one brand new friend?! That’s great!”

  
  
“Jesus Christ, I actually thought you didn’t care for a minute.” Max lolled his head back with a heavy groan, narrowly avoiding having his hair ruffled again but at least he had been wrong. “It’s like you were pretending not to know me.”

  
  
David withdrew his hand and tilted his head with a worried frown. “I thought that was what you’d want.”

  
  
“It is.” Was it? Before that doubt grew too big, Max piled on, “Just don’t make it too obvious or someone will catch on.”

  
  
“I happen to be an excellent thespian, don’t you worry!”

  
  
“Uh huh. I’m worried.”

  
  
“Did you eat all your lunch?”

  
  
“Yeah.”

  
  
“And you understand the work so far? You don’t feel too lost? We can go over it all at ho--”

  
  
“David.” Max cut him off before he got too close, because David was starting to kneel down to his height, starting to forget how this all had to work. “Seriously, I’m okay. I gotta go.”

  
  
“Of course. My very grown up little fourth grader. I’ll write you a pass so--”

  
  
Max stomped out of the room but most of the stompiness was worked out by the time he got to his class line and made it in time before the bell. They went straight into the science part of the day and it was a lot of reading about electricity and conduction, which Max was pretty familiar with already. Some of the math material was a little lost on him, but nothing he thought Gwen couldn’t clear up.

  
  
Before he knew it, the final bell was ringing and everyone was chaotically throwing their stuff into backpacks to scurry on home, eager to play in the snow or do something else kids were supposed to do with their daylight hours. Kat waved goodbye at him as she went and it was just him and the teacher as he pulled his hat on over his ears. 

  
  
“Do you need help finding the music room again, Max?” Mrs. Kim asked him helpfully.

  
  
“No, thanks, I can find it.”

  
  
“Alrighty. I can still walk you there if you want.”

  
  
“It’s really okay…”

  
  
“If you say so. I’ll see you tomorrow for your second day!”   
  
  
  
The drive home was tingling with David’s unasked questions, which Max could tell he was absolutely burning with under the surface but he was trying to keep it mellow for his sake. “You can ask one,” Max relented, turning his face to his window.

  
  
“Do you want Kat to come over for a playdate?”

  
  
Max put his forehead against the glass with a thunk. “What?” David asked innocently. “What did I say?”

  
  
“Never, ever fucking say the word ‘playdate’ to me ever again, idiot.”

  
  
“Ouchie. That word hurts my feelings, Max.”

  
  
He got a devious spark in his head and he looked at David’s reflection in the rear view mirror. “It doesn’t seem to bother you when  _ Gwen  _ calls you an idiot.”

  
  
David sputtered like the dying tailpipe on the back of his equally awkward car, “What does  _ that  _ mean? Max? Max! What does that  _ mean?” _

_   
_   
But he smugly refused to answer him right up until they got home and David had to just stop asking because they were in her presence by then. Max barely had time to throw his backpack down before Raksha came careening like the runaway bumper car turned puppy she was into the front hall and skittered as fast as she could to him. “I’m home, I’m home, I’m home, hi! Hi! I missed you!” he whispered energetically to her, dropping down so she could try to kiss his hands and face all at the same time. But eventually she settled enough to lay on her back against him so he could scratch her belly and nuzzle her nose against his chin.

  
  
He slipped her inside the front of his hoody, like a baby kangaroo, and she settled in to be carried around the house for the foreseeable future. He readied to scamper upstairs but David caught him by the shoulder, “Hang on, little bear, do you have homework?”

  
  
“Uh...A little?”

  
  
“Better get it set up upstairs, I’ll bring you up a snack.”

  
  
“He just got home, David.” Gwen came in from the backdoor, book and coffee in hand, her face nipped rosy from the chill. “Let him hang out for a bit.”

  
  
“If he does it now, he doesn’t have to interrupt relaxing or lose focus.”

  
  
“He just spent eight hours focusing!”

  
  
As they debated, Max took the chance to slip upstairs with his backpack and all and closed his door soundly behind him before falling backwards onto his bed and rubbing Raksha’s soft ears. It felt so good to be home in his bed, among his twinkle lights and posters, breathing in the air of his own space after such a long day. But it was long in a good way. It left an accomplished feeling in his bones, one he had been missing since his camp days when he ran around getting up to all kinds of mayhem with fellow mayhem seekers like Neil and Nikki and the rest, too. 

  
  
But with it all fresh in his mind, he did set his puppy down at his feet and open his backpack to start on what little homework he actually did have. The teacher was nice enough to give him just some catch up work to help him slip into the curriculum and it didn’t take very long to finish. He had just cracked open his math book, regretting saving his least favorite for last, when his phone buzzed sharply in his stomach pocket.

  
  
Max fished it out and saw a number he vaguely remembered. He had learned it that day but he had to make a contact for it. _ Kat From School _ .

  
  
**[txt: Kat From School]** _do you think if I go to live with goblins, I won’t have to do fractions?_

 _  
_  
 **[txt]** _I’m pretty sure they use a bartering economy, so it’s a no go for escaping math._

_   
_   
**[txt: Kat From School]** _ Assbiscuits!! What about vampires? _

_  
_  
**[txt]** _Materialistic fuckers, all about sales. Even worse._

_   
_   
**[txt: Kat From School]** _ I cant just accept my fate. I dont have that kind of dignity. _

  
  
He smiled. David popped in with a peanut butter and honey sandwich and milk tea. He leaned over to see the papers all over Max’s bed, “Doing okay? Do you need help?”

  
  
“Nope,” Max replied absently, tapping away his reply.

  
  
David fidgeted. “Who’re you talking to?”

  
  
Max looked at him sidelong, frowning slightly. “Why is it your business?”

  
  
“I was just curious, buddy. Did you make any friends today?”

  
  
“Maybe. Go away.” **[txt]** _ can I offer you a Raksha in this trying time? _

_   
_   
“Finish your math before dinner if you can,” David ruffled his hair, taking no offense as he went on his way to make dinner. He could sit down, but no. He just kept going.

  
**  
** **[txt: Kat From School]** _ show me the doggo!!!!!!!  _

_   
_ __   
Dinner came up pretty quickly. And bedtime, too. Well past midnight, they were still zipping messages to and fro, until Kat finally got caught by her dad and said she had to go to sleep but it was fine. Sure, Max was a little sleepier than usual for class in the morning but he managed to grab the empty seat at Kat’s table that morning. 


	5. Chapter 5

David kneaded the beads between his palms, the wood producing clicking sounds that eased his nerves as he locked eyes on his phone, resting on his desk. Any moment now. Sunday was his day with Max, but late Tuesday nights were for  _ him _ . It was never as easy as David expected it to be. He always under or overestimated it somehow, never getting his expectations right.    
  
Still, he had to try.   
  
He wanted to give Peter that chance Max said he deserved. And if even Max could put away his cynicism for once, David could reserve his judgement.   
  
It jingled cheerfully. He never knew how many times to let the phone ring before picking up and he over thought it until he realized he had better pick it up before it went to voicemail, so he answered it. “Hi, Peter.”   
  
Always Peter, sometimes Mister Norstrom. But never Dad. They weren’t there yet.   
  
“ _ Hey, kid. How’s your kid?” _ _   
_ _   
_ David could smile a little. He had a weird sense of humor, very deadpan and unexpected. “Getting better all the time, I think. Some things are still hard for him but he’s loving school, even if he complains about everything he possibly can. That’s just Max, though.”   
  
_ “What doesn’t he complain about?” _ _   
_ _   
_ “Book assignments, his new friend, ukulele practice, lunch. I pack it for him.”   
  
_ “Peanut butter and honey sandwiches?” _ _   
_ _   
_ “Uh-- sometimes, yeah.”   
  
_ “Heh. I used to make those for you.” _ _   
_ _   
_ David’s chest constricted. That didn’t sound right, he didn’t remember that. He remembered eating them with his mother, it was something that was  _ his and his mothers _ . “I didn’t know that.”   
  
_ “They were all I ate as a kid. Houses changed but cheap food doesn’t and no matter what brand, it still didn’t taste like total garbage. I started to hate them around, I don’t know...thirteen, fourteen. Then times got hard again. Food got harder to come by. But honey never goes bad, peanut butter keeps for a long ass time. Started eating them with Willow again. And you were a picky fucking eater, so it was always peanut butter and honey foldovers and green grapes. Any other color grape was poison.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “I couldn’t have possibly been that opinionated.” David tried to picture himself throwing a tantrum over being offered purple grapes and even though he couldn’t, he did mentally note he had only ever liked green.   
  
_ “Oh, yes you were.” _ _   
_ _   
_ Defensive walls rose. “I was two,” David almost spat it out. “I hadn’t hit the  _ milestone  _ of opinions yet.”   
  
Peter was quiet for a minute. And almost meekly, in his gravel road voice,  _ “Kids always get smarter faster than grown ups think.” _ _   
_ _   
_ David coiled the rosary into a pile on his desk and looked up at the angels on the book shelves, reminding himself to be calm. “Terrible twos for a reason, I suppose.”   
  
_ “You weren’t terrible.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “No?”   
  
_ “Nah. Sweeter than pie. Loved your Tigger and your little trampoline, always had to show me how high you could jump.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “My tigger-- I still  _ have  _ my tigger!”   
  
_ “You’re jokin’.” _   
  
“No! It’s in a box, in the attic, sealed up with all of my other baby things! So I could give them to my baby, or-- uh. Well, Max is too old for pretty much all of that stuff and he already has his teddy.”   
  
_ “I can’t believe you kept that creepy thing.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “It’s not creepy!”   
  
_ “Really? Because when it got broken and would randomly start singing the Bouncy song in the dead of night, I nearly shit myself. Your mother made fun of me all morning, offered to pray the ghost with Paul Winchell’s voice away.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “The button was sticky, I fixed it.”    
  
_ “That’s good. They don’t make them anymore, I looked.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “Looked?”   
  
_ “Yeah, for Christmas, for the little guy. I don’t think eleven is too old.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “You don’t know any eleven year old like Max, I can tell you that for certain.” David lowered the phone for a second, listening to Max curse out his video game down the hall before going back to the conversation.  _ “Eh, you’re young. I’m sure if your girlfriend is on board, he’ll have a little brother or sister to watch Winnie the Pooh with before too long.” _ _   
_   
David blinked a few times, genuinely befuddled. “My girlfriend?”   
  
_ “The writer? Gwen?” _ _   
_ _   
_ His eye twitched and then his face grew red hot, “Gwen  _ isn’t  _ my girlfriend! She’s my friend! My counselor buddy for life! Max looks up to her! We’re a team, we ju--  _ why are you laughing?!” _ _   
_   
Peter cleared his throat,  _ “Oh, no reason. I believe you.” _ _   
_   
“Moving on from this,” David leaned his forehead into his hand, grateful Gwen wasn’t even in the  _ house _ . If she overheard any of that, she would catch on right away and the last thing David wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable. He certainly didn’t have any intentions when he offered her the guest room and if she thought so--  **moving on** . “I was thinking about future things. I can’t make a lot of plans until the six month period is over and we know. But if things are good, maybe if you wanted to come down here…”   
  
Peter’s silence told him he caught on immediately. David waited for an answer, his heart like a metronome gone vivace. “Peter?”   
  
_ “You want me there?” _ _   
_ _   
_ “Sure I do, phone calls aren’t the best way to get to know someone.”   
  
_ “In Sleepy Peak.” _ _   
_ _   
_ It occurred to David that maybe Peter didn’t have the best emotional view of this place. “If it’s possible for you,” he said softly. “You don’t have to worry about Granda or Aster.”   
  
_ “I can handle Adaire, that’s not it. It’s just...been such a long time. It’s not a good idea for anyone involved.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “You have no obligation. I’m just saying if you want to give it a chance, you can. There’s support here. But we’re not waiting around, Peter.”   
  
_ “Can I think about it?” _ _   
_ _   
_ “What’s there to think about?” His temper bubbled. “I’m your son. You could have a grandson.”   
  
_ “God almighty, David, it isn’t as easy as just hopping into the car and going.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “I don’t think it’s very respectful of you to call upon someone you likely don’t have a good relationship with.” Unfair? Maybe. Did he mean it? Absolutely. “And I thought this is what you wanted.”   
  
_ “It’s not about what I want. I’m not easy to be around. Won’t be any good for either of you long term.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “We agreed that this only happens if we both make an effort. I don’t even have a memory of your face that isn’t based on a photograph, you don’t even have to stay with us, I’ll get you a hotel!”   
  
_ “Don’t spend your money on me.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “I’ll pitch you a tent, then!”   
  
Peter was quiet again and David fumed, trying to think of anything else to say but he couldn’t decide which direction to run. He could follow his pent up anger and let it carry him away, or he could try to diffuse it, but he was so paralyzed by the decision that he just couldn’t choose.   
  
**Tap tap** .   
  
The door cracked and David noticed that he couldn’t hear Max’s game anymore. One brilliant green eye peeked through the inch wide opening, little fingers curled around the wood. Still so cautious to enter the room without David’s express permission, but the concern was enough to draw him close. He inhaled sharply and lowered the phone, covering the receiver with his palm, “Need something, little bear?”   
  
“No.” Max lingered in the hall, twisting the knob idly. “You were yelling.”   
  
“Oh. Sorry. Um, everything’s fine, you can go back to your game.”   
  
“You sure?”   
  
“I’m sure,” David smiled at him and Max hesitated but he nodded with a soft, “ _ go on, _ ” and the door shut.    
  
When David went to lift the phone back up to his ear, there was nothing. He looked at the screen, nothing.  _ That-- that mhac na galla hung up on me!  _ David put his phone on the desk and left the room quickly as he could to avoid chucking the device into a wall. This temper of his was dangerously close to reawakening itself after years dormant. Maybe all this stress was beginning to compromise the inner quietude he’d cultivated.    
  
David made his way to the kitchen and ran his fingers along the countertop as he walked by it, feeling the little divots on the surface that marked small accidents, messy and happy, throughout the house's history. He couldn’t have crammed another emotionally taxing thing into the time between summer and present if he tried and the majority of those things were somehow Max-related, not that he was blaming the child for anything. But David hadn’t experienced a level of physical and emotional exhaustion like this before, not even when he was in college functioning purely on willpower and a concoction of cream and sugar addled coffee that would make Gwen and Max disown him.   
  
One of the changes that was only just starting to settle with him was being in this house. How could someone feel so out of place where they grew up? His first steps were on the floor where he now kept his office, the gravelly road out front where he first pedaled on his own without training wheels and the corners of each wall where he would run away screaming and laughing when his grandfather jumped out at him. He always knew Granda was there, after a little while, but it didn’t take away the fun and he never ran as fast as he could. He wanted Granda to be able to catch him on his cane.    
  
David looked over at the back door where a good dent was left in the wall just outside of its frame where Max had accidentally rammed his skateboard when trying to teach Raksha to ride it. One video of a bulldog doing it was all it took.    
  
However, there was no tutorial on how to train the dog to do it, so Max got it into his head that a demonstration was in order. Five seconds later, he wiped out on the kitchen floor after ricocheting off of the wall and the rest was history.    
  
Somehow, he managed to do it all just as David nodded off for a nap and he was back to running downstairs at full steam to pluck Max up off the floor to fuss over him. Check if he was hurt, reassure him he wasn’t angry, get barked at for smothering him and the usual. By the time it was done, the moment of peace had passed and David resolved he wasn’t catching extra shut eye that day.   
  
Again,  _ not  _ blaming his son.    
  
When it all came down to it, he was happy and he didn’t have to turn in a circle to remember where he had put everything in the cupboards now as he made himself a cup of tea to calm down.   
  
Being back in this house was  _ right _ .   
  
David was just scared that bringing Peter back to it would set him back to square one. But he had taken so many chances for the better, so why not again? He  _ always  _ had to try.    
  
He opened the fridge to make a snack for Max. Cinnamon bread in the toaster and then some grapes, green grapes. The only kind he ever ate.  _ Huh. Isn’t that something?  _ After making up a plate and a second mug, he dragged his feet back upstairs and tapped on Max’s door. “Open up, squirt, I come bearing gifts.”   
  
“It’s not locked.”   
  
David shouldered his way through and gently kicked it closed behind him, looking for a spot to put the plate down. “It’s a little messy in here.”   
  
Max paused his game and turned his head back and forth, Raksha quickly getting to her feet to see what he was interested in. “So?”   
  
“So, you’re gonna get ants.”   
  
“Not in winter.”   
  
“Well--” David clicked his tongue thoughtfully, “That’s true, but doesn’t it make you feel yucky with wrappers and your dirty shirts all over?”   
  
“Okay, I get it, I’ll  _ clean _ . Fuck.”   
  
“Hey!”   
  
A warning tone, instinctive and not entirely unintentional but it was enough to get Max to look a little admonished. The gossamer thin line was there, respect teetering on the very edge of fear. He saw it in the tiny microexpressions on his face, nervous flutters like moth wings in a draft. David knocked some snack bar wrappers onto the floor and put the dish in the cleared spot, before gesturing with a little, ‘cmon’ for Max to get up. And he did, quietly. “You don’t have to talk to me like that. I’m listening if you’re whispering or yelling. Okay?”   
  
“Okay.” Max let out a short breath and nodded. “Um...I’ll start now.”   
  
“No, you’ll eat your snack now. Then you’re gonna pick up the garbage and vacuum a little. And  _ I _ am going to get the laundry.” David ruffled his hair and started to pile things into his arms, various pajama bottoms and socks. “Don’t let Raksha get any of the grapes, they’re toxic for dogs.”   
  
“I won’t.” Max climbed onto his bed and settled in with his book to eat. David heard a tiny,  _ “thank you,” _ before he shut the door and he smiled.    
  
  
By the time the front door sounded and he heard the quiet beeps of a thumb punching in the disarming code, David was already shaking out warm clothes and blankets to fold them into crisp shapes. “ _ Dave? _ ”   
  
“I’m down here!” He called up, and thumping footsteps followed to the laundry room. “Gweeeen, take your shoes off. You’re tracking slush everywhere.”   
  
“Jesus, you’re such a housewife.” But even as she made a show of rolling her eyes, she leaned against the wall to yank off her heavy boots before they left any more gray, soggy prints around the house. “Where’s mini-monster?”   
  
“Turning his eyeballs square in his room,” David set aside a pile for her and Gwen huffed a hard sigh through her nose as she picked them up. “I don’t mind.”   
  
“Well, I do. I don’t want to freeload off of you, David, stop doing my laundry and making my bed and shit!”   
  
“But I like helping,” he insisted and saw instantly it was the wrong thing to say to her. Her eyes snapped so quickly in his direction that David almost ducked out of pure fight or flight. “It’s an equal exchange,” he said, lifting his hand in a pacifying gesture. “You help me a lot, too. And I know it’s hard for you to stay here. Tiny town in the middle of nowhere, tucked up in the cold mountains. I know you miss California.”   
  
Gwen chewed at the corner of her lip in a way he found inexplicably adorable as she wrestled mentally with his considerate argument. “It’s a cute town,” she muttered and began stacking what belonged to her into a little purple basket. Did he buy that for her? He might have. Blue for Max, green for himself. Such a color trio decorated the building all over, from the coat rack to the linen cabinet. “And I’ve never said I don’t like mountains. Besides, there’s no point in missing California...Broke my lease. I’m out.”   
  
David dropped the fabric softener bottle he was just putting away. Out?   
  
Gwen shrugged as she balanced the basket on her hip and waved her hand dismissively, “Landlord was a raging Karen and the place always smelled like overcooked eggs. I’m not going to cry over it. Apartments are cheaper here, I’ll find somewhere to go.”   
  
David picked up the fabric softener and tapped the plastic anxiously, noting how she wouldn’t openly mention how it was also the place she last saw Rishima. “You’ve been looking for an apartment?”   
  
“Close by. This was always temporary, nice as it is. Don’t pout,” she pinched his arm and he hissed a quiet ow and put the jug down again to rub it. “You only have to wash my delicates for a little bit longer, Dave.”   
  
“ _ Wh-- I never--your del--!” _   
  


She left him stammering and hot in the face, feeling ready to just melt into a puddle on the laundry room floor and never put himself back together to escape the mortification. How could she laugh at something so indecent? And how diabolical to distract him from the previous subject like that.  _ Gwen, you’re so mean _ . He thought, focusing on not watching her go up the stairs.   
  
How quiet would this house be without her clomping around annoyingly in her boots or cursing at inconveniences in a way that thrilled and encouraged Max? No clacking at her keyboard with her eyes squinted at the screen, leaning forward in a posture that was damaging at the least. No mindlessly reaching for an empty coffee cup and not noticing he had filled it when she wasn’t looking, to keep her from breaking her focus. No curling up on the sofa to watch Bob Ross or their various period dramas together, their feet touching when they probably had enough room not to but...it was more comfortable that way.   
  
_ What is wrong with me? I’ll still see her! And she’s right, this was supposed to be short term _ . David shook his head and ruffled his hair hard to get the thoughts to settle down.  _ It’s. Fine _ .    
  
Once he had a full blue basket and his composure back, he made his way back upstairs and caught Gwen putting her shoes and coat back on. “Forgot my portfolio in the car,” she explained before opening the front door and stepping out.   
  
One step and she threw herself back, slapping her hands over her mouth to muffle a splitting screaming that didn’t reach beyond that front foyer. David dropped the basket and all its contents, his blood chilling in his veins as he rushed forward and out of pure instinct, grabbed Gwen by the shoulders and pulled her behind him to see what it was.   
  
His mouth flooded with a metallic tasting liquid, begging his stomach to purge just at the sight on his front porch. The snow slowly stopped steaming, a sign to him that the blood scattered across it was fresh within seconds but he couldn’t see anyone responsible for the animal left there. He could hardly tell what it was, it was so mangled and twisted by its violent end. Bigger than a small dog, but not by much.   
  
“It’s a bear cub,” Gwen choked out, “ _ David _ . It’s a little bear--”   
  
“Go upstairs to Max’s room,” he slowly let her go and she grabbed at his wrist to keep him with her, but he calmly turned and continued talking. Outside, he was in control. Inside, he was screaming. “Act normal and stay with him. Text Aster. Do not come downstairs until she’s here or I call you.”   
  
She was so pale that he was genuinely concerned she was going to faint dead away but without a word, she let him go and went to do just that.    
  
David took an umbrella of all things from the can by the door and stepped outside, careful not to disturb the grotesque scene. It struck him as profoundly sad; it was so little, it couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old but this time of year wasn’t when bears were having young in the wild. Who could do this to a helpless animal?   
  
And the implication it gave wasn’t lost on him.  _ Little bear _ . He wanted to shout into the trees  _ show yourself!  _ To force them to face him so he could deal with the threat. Was he so menacing, a man in a t-shirt shivering in the snow with nothing but an umbrella brandished? He didn’t feel the chill all the way until the police car came quietly but quickly tearing into his drive.    
  
His godmother closed the door just as discreetly, her service weapon drawn as she marched up the lawn with the dark furious eyes of a provoked mother. David stared at the ground still, then up at the sky. It wasn’t snowing but there was fresh snow on the ground from before. Why were there no footprints from human or animal? It looks like it was just conjured onto the space.   
  
“It’s from the sanctuary.” Aster rubbed her temple. “The grizzlies...I had just dispatched people to answer a break in there when Gwen--”   
  
“How can they know I call him little bear?” David interrupted her, finally realizing he had left the front door wide open and so he closed it and it was just them in the winter.    
  
Aster holstered her gun and look at him with a soft shake of her head, a silent indication that she had no idea. “Get a tarp,” she said gently. “And I’ll get the hose and a shovel. He’s never going to know this happened, understand me?”   
  
“Shouldn’t you _report_ this?!”   
  
“No.”   
  
Aster pulled him by the elbow down the steps with her and around to the garage where what they needed were kept. Her words made his heart set up camp in his throat. “From here on, we can only deal with this ourselves.  **No one else can help us now.** ”   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Gwen watched David double and triple check something before she finally asked quietly, “What is that?”   
  
“Safety,” he murmured, a lonely wind rattling the window pane. She looked at the clock on his nightstand and it read well past two a.m. How steady his long fingers were when operating something so lethal was concerning Gwen. It just didn’t feel right. David didn’t handle weapons, he put cups over spiders and slid cards under them and tried to talk his way peacefully through anything right up until he got punched in the nose. This wasn’t right.  _ They  _ were changing him.   
  
He looked across the room at her and his eyes were the same gentle pine needle beds that were a balm to her soul. “I’m licensed,” he said reassuringly. “I got it renewed after Halloween. I just wasn’t sure about it until today.”   
  
“Yesterday,” she corrected him softly. “It’s past midnight.”   
  
“You should go to sleep, then.”   
  
“Ugh,” the very thought made her say it. Gwen closed the door and dramatically fell backwards onto his bed behind him with a bounce, staring up at the ceiling resentfully. “I can’t after that shit.”   
  
The blanket rustled and his arm was resting against hers. She could smell the traces of his cologne, cedarwood and fresh apples, and the fireplace crackles still holding onto his shirt from downstairs. “Yeah, neither can I.” he sighed. “So-- let me show you how to use this.”   
  
He walked her through the basics, showing each part of it and how it functioned with care but only let her hold it when he unloaded it entirely. “It’s very accurate and the stopping power is good enough that any body shot will give you a chance to run. Point, shoot, run.”   
  
“Point, shoot, run.” she repeated and he took it back, pushing the magazine back in and making sure it was locked. With that, he put it under the bed, the metal clunking into a small wooden shelf he had bolted to it earlier. Close access but not obvious. They stared up at the ceiling in silence but she gave in to the urge soon enough to turn her head and found him looking back at her intensely. She could count each freckle on his face, notice a tiny scar at the edge of his bottom lip and little flecks of brown in his irises. “How did we get here?” he asked, his voice dragging.   
  
“Being stupid and doing the right thing.”   
  
“Oh, of course.” he nodded and smiled just a bit. “No good deed and all that.”   
  
“But you wouldn’t do anything differently?”   
  
He twitched his nose and pondered it dramatically before shaking his head, “I might have gone without the broken arm, but no. Same choices.”   
  
“Me, too...scared?”   
  
David blinked and averted his gaze, a tell of him lying. “No.”   
  
Gwen lied along with him, her voice giving out for a moment. “Neither am I. They can come get some, the fuckers.”   
  
“Language.”   
  
“Kiss my ass, David.”   
  
He laughed gently and reached his arm around her, squeezing her close against his side in a hug that almost made her feel safe for two seconds. “You’re a bad influence.”   
  
“The hell I am! You’re lucky my ‘having a backbone’ trait rubbed off on you or you’d be long gone before we even made it to September.” Gwen kneed his leg but not too hard. His chest danced with another chuckle and she rested her head on it to listen, the warmth and scent just too good of a solace to pass up. “I think you’re right, Gwen...You should stay.”   
  
She gingerly rested her arm across his torso, daring to get comfortable. “Oh, yeah? Ask me nicely.”   
  
“Please stay, Gwen.” he said it sweeter than pie and she snorted from the secondhand embarrassment. She closed her eyes and gave in, his hand cradling her head too gently to allow her to just sit up and go. “Only because you said please.”  
  
And worn ragged as they both were, neither of them caught a wink of sleep that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all deserve some good wholesome family content before I deliver some killing blows.

“David.”   
  
He stirred quietly, a faint mumbling sound and snort as his snoring was interpreted. Max tried louder, “David!”   
  
He stepped back as the man’s head lifted and he winced, putting a hand to the back of his neck and rubbing the twinge it probably had from falling asleep on his desk. Max crossed his arms, feeling suddenly out of place like he had just overstepped an invisible boundary. A transgression that probably didn’t exist, but how could he possibly know? “Go sleep in your bed if you’re tired, idiot.”   
  
David smiled, of course he smiled, as he closed his computer and turned off his desk lamp. “That’s a good idea.”   
  
“Duh.”   
  
“I’m okay, though. I’m not really that tired. Can you come here?” David gestured with his hand and Max’s feet thought quicker than his brain did, moving automatically. He hadn’t realized he had become so trained to just trust David like that. Something molded from trust, not fear. “ _ What _ are you doing?” He asked, stiffening up as David pulled him into his arms and snuggled him close. “Just wanna hug you for a minute, it’s not weird.” his guardian muttered drowsily.   
  
Max allowed it. He could pick up on the signs that something was wrong with David from the last few days but this one was screaming in his face. He counted inside his head the seconds, before he decided enough was enough and wriggled free when he got to sixty. “It’s been a minute, you happy?”   
  
“As a clam.”   
  
“I still don’t get why people say that, clams aren’t capable of in depth emotion.” Max rolled his eyes and blocked David’s finger from bopping his nose by swiping it violently aside. “How would you know? You’re not a clam. You’re a little—“

David stuttered. His voice toppled over itself like a shoe toe catching the corner of a block tower, and he recovered but not near quick enough. “Boy.”

Max’s mouth felt dry, his hands suddenly sweaty, the back of his neck cold and hot all at once. Every instinct telling him that something was wrong went off.

_ Little mistake. _

_ Little parasite. _

_ Little monster. _

_ Little  _ **_nothing_ ** _. _

Nobody called him a little anything good until David. Why did he give it up now? Why wasn’t he still little bear? What did he do to lose that? Max felt himself shriveling up into something insignificant and  _ unwanted _ , the way he felt for so long that made him try to scream and fight his way into feeling bigger, like he was more than what he was. A tiny dog snarling and snapping to seem like it wasn’t worth underestimating.

People would see and care, even if it was because he was scaring them. It was better than being a bug they ignored or tried to stomp out. “What’s your problem?” He blurred out aggressively, a reflex. He wanted to kindly ask if David was okay, but it wasn’t a muscle he had exercised enough. 

David seemed startled. He blinked at him owlishly, between exhaustion and confusion, two things that were probably Max’s doing. “Nothing,” he said softly, a pathetic attempt to make it all seem right when it so clearly was not.  _ Nothing _ . It dug into Max’s brain like a parasite devouring its way into his ear, a stabbing consistent pain that throbbed fresh and old alike, reawakening something that was never really gone. It was always there, open wounds masquerading as scars.    
  
“Whatever,” he shrugged it all off, a weight that slammed back down on him instantly but he felt he hadn’t let it show as he turned around and left the room. “Max, wait!”   
  
The raised volume stabbed into his spine but Max kept walking towards his room, hurrying his steps. “Where are you going?” David demanded it, frantically, following after him at a suffocating distance.   
  
“My room,” Max spat over his shoulder. “Where the fuck else? Is that allowed?”   
  
“I--” David stopped in his tracks, nervous. “Of course it is, I just...wanted to make sure you weren’t going outside.”   
  
He seemed on the verge of saying something but he looked down as he lied blatantly, however sweet and earnest his concern was, Max saw it was for show. “It’s too cold for you.”   
  
“Thanks for caring. Get away from me and take a nap.”    
  
Before he could hear that made-up happy tone of voice again, Max scurried into his room and shut the door hard to really drive the message home that he didn’t want to be followed in. Raksha stretched on his bed with a squeaky yawn, first sticking her tush in the air and then leaning forward with her nose up.    
  
He flopped onto the mattress next to her and began wrestling his hoody off, chucking it onto the floor haphazardly. At the same moment, he remembered he was supposed to be keeping his room clean but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. He felt angry and hot and tired all at once, for being shut inside the house but shut out by David, too.    
  
He laid there for some time, his puppy resting on his chest without an invitation but her weight was comfortable and warm. Her ears were soft and Max closed his eyes for...he wasn’t sure how long. He might have nodded off, because he only opened them at a quiet clattering sound.   
  
Max sat up and looked around his room for a moment, trying to find the source. He was sure he dreamed it, but it sounded like the mirror hanging from his closet door had clunked against it. It wasn’t the first time he was startled by the door being pushed ajar when the heat kicked on and the vent inside blasted warm air.   
  
But as he looked at it, his attention was drawn to the reflection. He was only wearing a tank top, since it was toasty in his room. And he regretted it. He could see a scar normally so easily hidden with a T-shirt, but it was all he could look at now. He had forgotten how pronounced it was. Even the memory of the burn searing into his skin had become distant but now it was so clear to him he winced like it was blistering all over again.    
  
Gingerly, he reached behind his shoulders and gathered up the fabric of his shirt in his fingers at the back of his neck, pulling it up to get a look at the rest of his back. All of them were still there.  _ It’s not like they would just disappear. It’s never going to just go away _ . The longer Max looked at them, the less he had the energy to stop. Raksha was asking for his attention but he couldn’t give it to her.   
  
_ Rrrreeeeak _ .

The angle of the reflection changed, as the closet door shifted closed and caught the corner between his bed and window.    
  


Raksha launched herself off of the bed, her paws hitting the floor hard and giving out so she bonked her nose into the wood but that didn’t slow down her tirade as she threw herself into the corner reflected, barking up a storm with her teeth bared. Max watched, his heart skipping beats, as the darkness where the two walls met seemed to fill the space of the reflective surface.    
  
Then they were broken, by two piercing pairs of green, gazing at him both human and not. He thought it was a trick but then they blinked and Max grabbed the end of his blanket, following the childish need to yank it over his head and throw himself against the bed. He curled up and shut his eyes tight, trembling from the top of his head and down, choking out, “Raksha!”   
  
But she kept snarling. He didn’t want her doing that, he wanted her there under the blanket with him, snuggling away whatever fake monster that wasn’t really there. He smacked his palm on the cushiony material to try to get her attention but then she yelped and his room went quiet, save for the sound of his shuddering breathing.    
  
A shadow moved above him, too big to be his dog. Max swallowed nervously and dared to ask, “David?”   
  
The shadow snickered. The voice it spoke with was colder than the frozen earth outside, harder than stone and more painful to listen to than metal screeching on itself. “ _ Nahin, mere pota.” _ _   
_ _   
_ He thought about screaming or calling his dog again. He thought about bravely throwing the blanket off and proving to himself whatever this terrifying experience was, it was just that; an experience. It wasn’t founded in reality, it was nothing more than the many cruel tricks his sick mind played on him day after day that he was told by everyone around him he was healing from.    
  
“ _ Mujhe theek se dekhane do _ .”   
  
Was the blanket really moving?   
  
Were those real fingers holding it?   
  
Max really wanted to scream. He did. He knew David and Gwen would come running a breakneck speed to make sure he was okay but it was like a nightmare, no voice, no force behind any blow or speed to any step he took. He was just trapped in the  _ ordeal _ .   
  
Then it stopped. There was a new sound. Slow, comforting notes, each perfect in their procession following in time with confidence. With a hiss and cold rush of air, the blanket fell back onto Max’s head.   
  
He kept his eyes covered and shivered, right up until the moment a warm palm laid on his head and he didn’t even flinch, despite expecting himself to.   
  
_ Safe. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I’m safe? _   
  
He asked it in his mind and waited. With the tune fading out, Max was almost sure he had received some kind of silent confirmation.    
  
Max sat up to the sight of Raksha curiously circling his keyboard, standing up on her back feet to investigate the stool and sniffing something on it. His room was bright again, all shadows in its corners just the natural kind. He still wasn’t sure what any of that was. He didn’t know that voice and couldn’t understand the words, nor could he be sure if even a single moment had been real. But that didn’t make sense even if it wasn’t. That wasn’t how the flashbacks worked, they had to be something he already lived through or so he believed.   
  
“What’s that?” he asked hoarsely, as his puppy scampered back to him none the worse for wear with something in her mouth for him after knocking it from the stool. He helped her up and hugged her close before taking it from her teeth and twirling it in his fingers.    
  
_ This is definitely real _ , he thought numbly, the leaf fresh and green.  _ How did this get in here? _

* * *

  
“I thought you would know that kind of stuff.”   
  
Max dejectedly tucked the leaf back into his book with a snap and shook his head, “I didn’t really memorize a lot of plants at camp. Maybe ten or fifteen, the common ones that you can eat or that’ll kill you. Or give you the worst rash of your life.”   
  
Kat gave him a very unhelpful shrug as she expanded her bubblegum into a bubble big enough to encompass half of her face before it made a very satisfying  _ crack _ ! And deflated. Seeing his jealous look, she opened her pencil case and tossed him a square of forbidden watermelon Hubba Bubba goodness. “Still cool you know all that, though. Why dontcha ask your dad? Isn’t he all about that crap?”   
  
Max dug his teeth violently into the sugary lump to start rendering it soft but he was also keeping himself from correcting her. “It’s complicated. He’d ask a lot of questions.”   
  
“So?”   
  
“ _ So _ , when he asks questions, it’s annoying as shit and then he gets worried when I don’t feel like answering and that’s even more annoying.”

  
“He can’t be that bad,” Kat carefully gathered her legs up onto her chair to sit more comfortably, taking special care with the task. Max always noticed she did things like that. Always favored her right leg a lot. What was up with that? “Not as bad as mine, at least. He’d wrap me in bubble wrap and safety lights and homeschool me if he could get away with it.”   
  
Max had never actually met her dad. He had never gone to Kat’s house either, although she hadn’t been to his either. Didn’t eleven year olds do that? Ask their parents if they could have play dates? It just felt weird, yet another thing Max struggled to grasp as part of his new normal. He never joined in with neighbor kids on their swing sets or politely asked his parents if he could go to that sleepover birthday party other children in his school were having. Of course he didn’t. Because he wasn’t ever supposed to impose his existence more than he already did.    
  
“He sounds like he really wants you to be safe,” Max chose his words carefully but he was really trying to ascertain what her home situation was like.   
  
Kat sighed deeply and pulled a lock of hair over between her eyes to meddle with it. Quick as Max could blink, there was a braid. “Yeah. Ever since Mom, it’s been like that. I can’t really be mad at him. It’s just his way of dealing with it.”   
  
Sad as it was, Max was relieved that was the case. Just an overprotective parent who already knew what it was like to lose someone.   
  
_ Aw, shit, that’s actually David, isn’t it? God dammit _ . Max groaned and dropped his face into his hands, “I hate it when you make a good point.”   
  
“Then start making your own.” Kat quickly took her gum wrapper and tucked her contraband away into it, before hiding the wad in her pencil case. Max, having tossed his wrapper into an unknown corner, gulped his down unpleasantly just in time for their teacher to come gathering them from their reading nook. Indoor recess was over.   
  
The rest of the school day went by in a haze. While in it, Max felt like each second dragged on for an age but when the final bell rang and it was time to wait at the usual spot to go home, it felt like he had blinked and it went from eight am to three pm.    
  


He always waited in the faculty office, allowed to do so since David shared an office area somewhere in the cluster of them with the other arts and music teachers. Max got to sit quietly among the grown ups until the door opened and David poked his head out with the same usual stupid greeting, “Hey, Mister Purohit, can I help you with something?” and an over the top wink.   
  
Max stood up and yanked his hat over his head, leaving the office without a word and David had no choice but the follow quickly as he struggled to get his coat on without dropping his binder. “Whoa, where’s the fire?”   
  
“Just wanna get home. I’m tired.” Max shouldered the door open, the mechanism buzzing loudly as it locked electronically behind them. David put a hand on his back to guide him towards where they were parked, looking around watchfully. “Alright, we’re going...Did you have a good day? I couldn’t hear you in class.”   
  
“I was lip singing, David, you know that. I  **never** sing.”   
  
David visibly pouted in disappointment, glancing down at his binder which was full of school programs and such. “It doesn’t hurt for you to try.”   
  
“Maybe I did try and I just didn’t like it, did you think about that?” Max snapped and David dropped his hand from his back.   
  
Shit. He didn’t mean it. And now David was looking at him with this wounded expression, guilty when he shouldn’t be. “No, I didn’t...um. Sorry, kiddo.”   
  
_ No. No, no, no! I should be saying sorry! _ But Max couldn’t work himself up to it before David was getting the back door of the car open and ushering him in from the cold wind.    
  
It was a tense drive. David tried a few times to initiate a conversation but gave it up, so he just turned on the radio. He hummed along with it, because he knew every song on the radio like it was a superpower, and Max did recognize the tune. He almost hummed with it but contained the urge until they were home. “Got any homework?” David asked, as he turned off the car.   
  
“Just reading and some math book pages. I’ll do them now.”   
  
“How about a snack first?”   
  
“I want to do them before I forget,” Max insisted, wanting to show he was trying in some ways. “Work now, play later. Right?”   
  
“Right. Well, I’ll still make you something.”   
  
Gwen was away at another grueling job interview, so it was just the two of them. Max set up in the living room with his stuff and started with his assigned chapters and notes as David started in the kitchen. He didn’t even sit down first. He just immediately switched from teacher to guardian. And Max felt it was somehow unfair. If anything or rather anyone was unfair to David, though, he was definitely the worst culprit.   
  
“Hey, David?” he called awkwardly.   
  
His guardian emerged shortly after with a plate of a peanut butter and honey sandwich, a glass of milk and some chips. He promptly set them down in front of Max with an expectant smile, “Yes?”   
  
“Can I ask you something?”   
  
David turned serious and took a seat on the couch next to him, nodding. Max paged through his book until he found what he wanted and showed David the contents. “Do you know what kind of leaf this is? It’s for science class. Photosynthesis stuff.”   
  
He regretted lying instantly by the look on David’s face. Max studied each stage of emotion his face went through, watching his eyes flicker around the room and land on a few picture frames before back at the leaf, which he picked up with the utmost gentility. He laid it in his hand and pet his thumb over the veins of the soft green material, like it was as fragile as ash. “It’s from a willow tree.”   
  
David handed it back to him, this time with a smile. “Any other tree questions?”   
  
Max took the leaf and twirled it in his fingers again, the branches in his mind swaying with a new wind of information. Music, safety, willow. A piano tune. Light chased that shadow away. Willow. He had the pieces and he was trying to slide them into the right places without going down some kind of rabbit hole he would be wasting his time with and--   
  
_ Don’t have a cow, man _ .   
  
Max already knew the dead could still be a part of the living world. Was it really such a stretch to think Jasper wasn’t the only instance?    
  
He took a breath and shook his head no, tucking the leaf back into the book and turning to the page he had left. “No, that was the only one. Thanks.”   
  
“You are very welcome. Eat up, dinner’s gonna be late. I don’t want us to eat without Gwen.”   
  
“That’s a good idea.” Max did agree with the sentiment. “If you don’t have to start cooking, maybe you have time to lay down.”   
  
David tilted his head at him quizzically and before he could ask for clarification, Max deadpanned. “You look like shit. Go take a nap already so I don’t have to look at you.”   
  
He thought David was going to get mad at him for a moment and he tensed up as the man marched back over to him but David only scooped up Raksha, “Fine, but I’m taking her to be my cuddle buddy as penance for your potty mouth.”   
  
Max smiled in relief. “Whatever, I’m still her favorite.”   
  
Homework went quickly, so Max settled in to watch some T.V until either Gwen got home or David woke up, but the afternoon was weathering on into the evening without either event. Max didn’t mind alone time, but it wasn’t like David to sleep this long. It was almost worrying.   
  
Finally, Max turned off the T.V and wrapped himself up in a throw blanket since he didn’t want to lose the level of warm and cozy he had cultivated. He made a tip-toe journey upstairs and down the hallway before he very, very carefully twisted the knob to David’s room to peek inside.    
  
It was dim and he saw Raksha perk her ears up at his presence. Max lifted a finger to his mouth and hushed her before she yipped and woke David up, who looked like he had conked out just as he had fallen. Sprawled on top of the covers face down with Raksha curled up on his back which probably made a good warm spot. She did like to find those; heating vents, Gwen’s laptop if left accessible, one hilarious instance of screaming from the bathroom because she decided a warm bath was too enticing to not be included in.    
  
_ He didn’t even take his shoes off _ , Max dropped his blanket onto the floor and crept hesitantly into the room, silent in his socks. He had gotten pretty good at tying David’s shoelaces together without being noticed, so it was easy to undo them and ease the sneakers off without disturbing him. He snored softly on, even as Max retrieved his blanket and gingerly draped it over him.    
  
And as Max was tip toeing out, he heard a tiny, unmistakable idiotic chuckle and sleepy voice mumble into the pillow, “ _ Thanks, little bear _ .”   
  
With a red hot face, Max shut the door hard and fled back to the living room to hide from being exposed as caring. The first thing he did was punch in the password to turn off the parental controls and watch something forbidden just to even things out.    
  


* * *

  
  
Gwen paid a customary glance around the yard as she ascended the front steps, always on alert now for anything amiss. A vandalised from door, a gutted animal, a moving shadow of something that didn’t belong. There was no letting her guard down even as she closed the door behind her, turned off the alarm and fell into the dense, plush armchair with a huff.    
  
Max turned down the volume slightly as she unlaced her boots and yanked them off. Gwen quirked an eyebrow up, looking at the television and then at him. “You’re not supposed to be watching _Always Sunny in Philadelphia._ David put it on the no-no list.”   
  
“It’s the kitten mittens episode.”    
  
“...Share the takis, you little beast.”    
  
Max scooted over a bit so she could sit down but Gwen took him under his arms and pulled him closer against her, settling his best against her torso and pulling the blanket over the two of them. “I’m not a pet,” Max growled, as he offered the bag of junk food to her and Gwen sat back against the pillows, her back thanking her for it. “It’s cold as fuck outside and you’re all warm and cozy. Where’s Raksha?”   
  
Max, after a few minutes of obviously pretending to be displeased, rested his head back against her shoulder, his curls tickling her chin. _This boy’s hair is getting shaggy_. “David stole her. He’s asleep.”   
  
“Seriously?” Gwen glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s six. Aren’t you hungry?”   
  
“I can make my own food.”   
  
Gwen chewed on the inside of her cheek, unsure of whether or not to actually address this one. Some things had to be left alone with Max. They weren’t worth getting into and it only upset him when it wasn’t necessary. But she wasn’t here because she was being paid to look out for him, no, that ship sailed long before she left Cameron’s payroll. She had made it her mission to set this kid right. “Okay, but you know that you don’t have to. If you need something, you ask,” she wrapped her arms around him a little tighter and Max surprised her by putting his hand on her arm to reciprocate it. “You’re not on your own anymore, we take care of you.”   
  
“I know,” Max’s voice quivered and he repeated himself, quieter. “I know.”   
  
_ There he goes _ , she thought as she freed one arm to pause their forbidden program. Little by little, he opened up, like a magnolia meeting May. Petal by petal, with patience and warmth, Max let people in. “Why didn’t you wake David up for dinner?” she asked, taking her hand and running her fingers through his hair.   
  
He didn’t answer right away. She could hear how hard he swallowed back any sound that could be misconstrued as crying and when he did talk, it was in a strangled whisper that she recognized well. The same kids took up when if they spoke at any louder of a volume, they would burst into tears. “I didn’t think it was going to be this bad.”   
  
“What was?”   
  
“ _ Me _ . Taking me home.” Max made a noise like a hiccup. “He’s running himself into the ground to try to be a good dad and he always tells me that he loves me and I know he means it but I’m such a piece of shit that I can’t even say it back to him. I wanted to give him a break.” The _from me_ was unspoken but she knew it was there.    
  
Now he was getting worked up, so Gwen pressed her hand against his chest and sat up a little so she could start rocking him slightly. Many times at his age, her mother sat her on her lap and did the same thing to quell the flood of emotions. “Breathe,” she told him and he did. “Do you want to keep going or do you want me to talk?”   
  
“I c--” he faltered. “I can keep going.”   
  
Gwen waited until he seemed to get himself together enough to formulate a sentence worth trying. “He was the first person in my entire life to tell me that I matter. How fucked up is that?”   
  
“Pretty fucked up,”  _ Turn on your location, Sunil. I just want to  _ **_talk_ ** . 

“And I wanted to stay with him because of that. I wanted to stay with you, too. I get that we weren’t always like this,” he gestured vaguely to the cuddly dynamic they had achieved. “You hated me.”   
  
“I did  _ not _ . I hated the stuff you did but not you. And honestly, Max, there were definitely a few times I could’ve stopped and gone ‘whoa, hey, this is still a ten year old child. Maybe don’t publicly humiliate him.’ “   
  
“...I think I got enough payback for the bear incident, though.”   
  
“You let me know if you think otherwise. I don’t even want to  _ think  _ of all the chaos you could cause now that I’m stuck in the same house as you,” Gwen ruffled his hair and Max squirmed away, but there was a smile on his face now. “Look, I know that it feels like you have to give back to David but you don’t. It’s only been a few months, you have the rest of your life to grow together and David has always been bad at self managing his energy. If he wasn’t firing on all pistons for you, he would just find something else, believe me. I had to share a cabin with the dingus.”   
  
“I still want to do something, though. It’s not about owing him! It’s-- I don’t know! I don’t know.”   
  
“You want to show him you care.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Gwen looked around the room for a while, until her eyes zeroed in on the archway to the kitchen. “Hey.” She nudged him off of her. “I got an idea.”   
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Rise and shine, idiot!”   
  
David jerked awake rather unpleasantly, right in time to see Gwen yank Max’s hood up onto his head and down over his face. “ _ Max _ . You don’t show appreciation to someone by insulting them.”   
  


He surely had no idea what they were up to and it was _ very  _ out of order to be woken up by them. David was always tooting a bugle on camp mornings, the first to slap the alarm clock quiet and rustle everyone else up for the day.  _ This is backwards,  _ he thought as Gwen began to aggressively rearrange his pillows. “Guys? Is everything okay?”

David was still groggy and while he rubbed his eyes and held back a yawn, he tried to swing his legs over the beside but Gwen slapped him on the knee lightly and pulled the blanket back into place. “No. You stay. It’s time for you to take a night off, now sit back.”

“Jeez, you two are making me pretty concerned…”

“I told you,” Max whispered and Gwen hushed him. 

The look on his little one’s face was so despondent and anxious that David instantly felt the urge to get right out of bed and kneel down to his level and take care of it. But Gwen seemed to be way ahead of him. As he slowly became more awake, David registered two things. First, something smelled good. Buttery, toasty, carmelized. Familiar somehow, too. And then he noticed the time, causing him to gasp out loud and throw blanket off. “It’s sev— Max! It’s so far past dinner time! I’m so sorry buddy, you’re probably starving, I’ll—“

_ Clatter.  _

David stopped short and looked down at his lap. Behold, a tray laden with the source of that good smell. A bowl of what looked like chopped vegetables and potatoes, roasted with some diced bits of meat here and there and toast to go with it.

He carefully settled back into a position less likely to tip it and caught Max looking down at his feet. “Max? Did you make this?”

“Kind of. Gwen did most of it.”

“He’s lying.”

_ “Bitch, Shut up!” _

Max snarled it but then winced and looked at David sidelong sheepishly for cursing so sharply at her. But he felt inclined to let this one go. “It's the only recipe I thought I could do. And you really gotta copy those down onto new cards, David, they’re so  _ nasty,  _ I think they’re older than you.”

This smile was real and impossible not to show. “if it’s the one I think, it is older than me.” 

“The stov— stevvicks…”

“Stovocks,” David intervened, picking up his fork and starting to load up a piece of toast excitedly. “That’s what Granda calls them but my mom and I call them—“

“Stovies.” Max finished his sentence for him. 

“You got it,” David ruffled his hair and carefully held his napkin under the slice before taking a bite. He expected it to not be quite the same but he was very pleasantly surprised. Heavy on the black pepper maybe, but that was both Gwen and Max’s natural instinct. Gwen’s jambalaya was among Max’s favorite dinners, especially because he got to take it for lunch at school but she always made a little sauce pot of his own that was moderately less spicy. The thoughtfulness made up for the mocking. 

Still, it was  _ good.  _ He could tell Max had really tried with this and once swallowed, David reached over and seriously put his hand in Max’s shoulder. “Hey,”

“Dammit. It’s bad, isn’t it? I knew it. I-I’ve never  _ really  _ cooked, microwave ramen and stuff doesn’t count…”

_ Aw, Maxie, can’t you just give yourself a break?  _ David powered through it, not giving the negativity any real attention. He wouldn’t let Max lower himself down. “I sure couldn’t tell! Do you want to cook dinner every night?”

Max _ squinted  _ at him. The distrust was plain. But it cracked at the hint of a shy, proud little smile that Max hid by shrugging his hand off and bouncily climbing onto the bed, putting the tray’s structural integrity at great risk. “Hel— I mean, heck no! That’s your job. But you get a weekend too, I guess, so we can negotiate two days a week.” 

“I tried to put a beer on that,” Gwen pointed to the tray, “But your minion told me you wouldn’t want it.”

_ I wouldn’t say that.  _ But David shook his head with a smile, “You two crack me up...this was really sweet. I needed it. Thanks, I _mean_ it.”

“You’re welcome,” Max pulled Raksha close and she immediately licked his nose, making him laugh. 

“But I promise I won’t sleep so long next time! I’ll be up and ready to mak—“

“Aaaand he ruined it. Pay up.” 

David watched, flabbergasted, as Gwen sighed, grumbled and slapped a five dollar bill into Max’s outstretched hand.  _ I can’t be that predictable.  _ He thought as he delicately put his napkin on his lap.

“You pay up, I told you he’d do it.” 

Max huffed and returned the money. David pointed his fork at each of them, “No gambling under my roof.”

“It’s not gambling if it’s a guarantee, is it?”

“ _ Max _ .”

“Can I at least go to a horse track so it’s not under your roof?”

Gwen grinned. “That sounds fun, I’ll take you.” 

Horrified and the sarcasm going straight over his head, David cried “You guys,  _ No!”  _ As Max tumbled onto his back, laughing uproariously at his expense. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait, everyone. It's been a hell of a time. I was laid off work and a friend of mine passed away from COVID complications in the same week and I haven't really been able to write. I'm employed again, but it's been a big blow to me creatively. That said, I'm not giving up on this fic but I will be doing an overhaul of it, editing chapters and condensing them into a single fic titled The Bravest Thing. Not sure when that will be done, but I'll be doing it before I post the newest chapter. It's optional but recommended that y'all do a quick reread before diving into the new update after this one. Thanks for sticking with me. Also, if there's any confusion, I did delete the tumblr due to harassment for updates.

“So what’d he say?”   
  
Max violently kicked down the wall of snow they had just built and proceeded to stomp on it for good measure, pounding it into a flattened sheet with his fury as Kat whistled (or tried to, under her scarf) at his display. “Did it rhyme with snow?”   
  
“Fuck off, Kat, I told you he wouldn’t go for it! I’m just pissed that I let you push me into asking him.” Max tore off his wet mittens and switched to pushing his hands into his pockets. Spring Break was right around the corner, with the reminder that things thawed a little in the high sun. But he knew later on that they would turn to slippery ice once it went away and the wind was always there, embracing the cold through every night.   
  
Kat just looked at him, with her eyes smarter and kinder than the lot of their classmates. “Sorry. I really thought by now they’d lighten up. Even my dad said okay...Do you think there’s a reason?”   
  
“He doesn’t trust me.” Max sat down, his snowpants scratching loudly at the friction and fumed beneath their favorite tree, watching the other children build forts and roll down drifts, ecstatic that the indoor restriction to recess had been lifted with the rising temperature. With the low hanging branches of the evergreen, they were plenty shielded and it felt almost cozy, like a clubhouse. “You’re sure that’s it?”   
  
Max took his hands out again to start scratching at the edges of his nails, not even the littlest bit sure. “Da--” he gulped. “ _ He’s _ probably scared of something happening to me. I’ve got a history.”   
  
“Shit, that sucks.” Kat scooted closer to him to show the deformed miniature snowman she had made, like something out of a horror movie. “I guess I won’t go either.”   
  
Max winced. “Kat, that’s stupid. You were all excited and you had to harass your dad for a month to wear him down...impressive work, by the way.”   
  
“It was easy, but it’s not gonna be any fun if you’re not there. Who’s gonna hide people’s shoes and coats with me?”   
  


The bell blared it’s single, flat note to indicate it was time for them to be herded back inside like the sheep they were being taught to be. Max wobbled upright, feeling awkward in his layers and without thinking, offered his hand down to his friend. It had become a habit now, giving her the support to get herself back on two feet. “I ruin enough things without a school dance added to the list.”   
  
“Please, you’re not capable of ruining anything for me. That medal goes to better candidates,” Kat tested her weight on her right leg before letting go of his hand and starting towards their class.  _ Fair _ . “I’d rather be stuck at home doing,” she added air quotations to the next phrase, “ _ family game night  _ with my dorky dad than play who’s eyes can be deader with the chaperones.”   
  
“...I’m still sorry.”

“I know. And it’s okay.” Kat squeezed his hand one last time before she followed him into class. 

* * *

  
  
Gwen was grateful for the warmer middle of the day, but the constant influx of fresh snow in the evening and infrequent thaws meant the ice was always renewing itself. And with all the time she spent waiting to hear back from potential jobs, Gwen had nothing better to do but keep house if she wasn’t going to be working on personal projects, which were not limited to but included her investigative crusade.    
  
So she did laundry, vacuumed, played with Raksha, put away clean dishes and whatever else she could find. Gwen thought back to the days when David reprimanded the kids for putting the responsibility of doing their clothes and dishes for them and laughed to herself about how Max, out of all of them, managed to rope her into it for the long haul. She never thought she would be folding his Spiderman pajamas neatly on his bed or be leaving his star and sheep speckled water cup on his bedside table.    
  
Rotating through dorms, dingy apartments and dead end jobs left little room for her to commit. Places, people and things were never long term. Only what she kept inside her head would be staying around, so she held that close. All of her opinions and ideas were stalwart trees planted firmly in the sandy shores of her mind.    
  
Any seeds that fell into the water were snatched up and hurled back inland as quick as she could manage.    
  
Now, she was ready to let them go on the current to plant themselves and expand the grove.   
  
Gwen uncapped the lid on the salt jug and began making her way around the house on the stone walkway, tossing it as evenly as she could. The last thing anyone needed was for David to wipe out (as he would do) and earn a cast on his leg just to even things out. She shuffled backwards carefully until she had to turn around and opened the gate to the backyard.   
  
The latch was reinforced with a bike lock that required a combination, an extra precaution she had suggested to David since the bear incident. She also made sure he didn’t make the code something as obvious as a family member’s birthday and instead picked it herself.   
  
As she lifted the chain to twist the gears into place, she scratched snow away from the foot of the gate to unblock it but then she stopped.   
  
“What the…”    
  
Gwen trailed off but squatted down low to the ground and brushed the leftover snow off of the wood, her fingertips catching in newly carved lines in its surface.    
  
She knew what she was looking at. Gwen could never forget it for as long as she lived. The figure of a man strung upside down by one ankle, holes bored into the corresponding vitals as before. It had been vandalized around her apartment and now it was here, on the gateway that was just an inch of wood between the world and where Max stored his snowball artillery.    
  
To say she didn’t delve into an endless tunnel of research over this thing was...just untrue. She had. Gwen poured over the significance of this symbol but there was an explanation that stuck in her mind.   
  
_ “Pittura infamante. Historically, this is a depiction of a common method of punishing traitors and even some artists will depict the man in the form of Judas. When the card is pulled upright, it can represent breaking away from old patterns and letting go of what is holding you back. But when inverted, it foretells missed chances and ultimate sacrifice. This is the card of martyrdom and betrayal.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “Fucking bastards.” Gwen ripped herself away, dropping the salt and running back into the house, flying up the stairs to her room. She tore apart her book cases and boxes of literature for a specific battered, ancient text she had held onto since middle school heritage week. She had a moment of fearing that she had somehow lost it but of course she hadn’t. Every time she thought so, it miraculously reappeared.   
  
Book in hand, she ventured back outside but this time at a much slower pace. She couldn’t shake the feeling that just beyond where her eyes could reach, something evil and malevolent waited for its chance.    
  
Gwen flipped through the pages of historic information that she once picked her mother’s brain over as a child, fascinated by how their ancestors created so many things of their own when they were meant to have nothing.    
  
She tucked the book into her back jean pocket and headed down to the garage, flicking on the light as she stepped into the frigid concrete space. There was a lot of camping and outdoor equipment in there, of course, including David’s kayak hung above and a workbench in the corner scattered with tools and some half done wood carving projects. Gwen passed it on her way to the recycling bin, noting the tiny figurines he had been whittling away at but recently set aside to collect dust. A half done bear cub that was more than half an untouched block of wood looked at her mournfully, waiting to be completed and wondering why it hadn’t been.   
  
There was something else to get done, though. She had a few things to make sure were right. Gwen rummaged around the recycling bin, pulling out any glass bottle she could possibly find. There were only a few hard ciders, probably two of which from David and the other four from her, mostly sodas or seltzers but there were the rare larger wine bottles and those were the best. Gwen took them all, stacked them in a bin and hauled them back into the house, kicking the garage door shut behind her. Now, she had to make sure they were clean. Nothing obscuring the glass.    
  
David kept jugs of vinegar under the sink, for baking and cleaning, so those would do fine. Hot water and vinegar, scrubbing til her shoulders were sore and lots of rinsing for what felt like forever produced a collection of sparkly clean bottles without any sticky label residue left on their bodies. Next, something strong. Garden twine would do.    
  
Then she needed the right tree. Close to Max, but facing east so when the sun came up, its light would hit the glass full on. Luckily enough, there was an oak tree in the backyard whose branches extended over his bedroom window. Now, getting up there…   
  
She wasn’t David or Nikki. She wasn’t going to  _ climb  _ it but there was a ladder in the garage that served her purposes.    
  
Gwen stayed out there until she was shivering and her toes were stiff. It hurt her neck to crane up for so long, painstakingly tying twin to the bottlenecks and branches one by one until she had a collage of green-blue against the dull winter sky.    
  
“One way to catch a bad spirit is to put it in a bottle,” she muttered as she climbed down the ladder and stood back to inspect her work.  _ And let it burn up at sunrise so it can’t hurt anyone else _ .   
  
Gwen didn’t believe that these people were bad spirits. But she didn’t believe they were really people anymore, either.   


* * *

  
  
David fizzled out the moment he sat down on the couch, slouching low into it with a sigh that took all of his energy away with it. He folded his arms over his eyes and only managed a short grumble as Gwen sat down beside him with similar deflation. “No feet on my coffee table,” he muttered and she promptly switched to resting her legs over his lap.  _ Well. I guess that’s better _ .   
  
“How was your day?” she asked, dragging a blanket off the back and over them both, then starting to look for the remote.    
  
“Let’s see...The school redirected funding from the fine arts to the soccer team, so instead of getting the new xylophones they said we would, I have to work with the only two functional ones and that’s an entire rearrangement of the spring sing.” David rubbed his eyes hard, trying to find some bright side. “Oh, and Max hates me. Again. Like, O.G hates me.”   
  
“Yeah...I heard that door slamming. And the yelling. And the throwing of things.”   
  
“I didn’t even think he’d want to go in the first place. So when he asked and I said no, I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal! I don’t understand why he’s so upset.”   
  
“David,” Gwen kicked her heel against his knee (owie) “If he was asking at all, he cares. Why the fuck would you say no?”   
  
David dropped his hands and stared at her, wondering if she was serious. “He’s not leaving this house if he isn’t with Aster or us. It’s not  _ safe _ .”   
  
Gwen clucked her tongue thoughtfully and produced the remote but it was missing the back and battery, so the search continued. “If he can go to school for eight hours during the day, he can go for another couple on a Friday night,  _ surrounded  _ by teachers, chaperones and other kids, inside a school with locked doors and anti-creep security. This is part of getting to be a regular kid...Yeah, we have to be careful. But that doesn’t give us license to make him a shut-in.”   
  
Usually, he was grateful when Gwen made sense but not this time. David raised his eyes to the ceiling, picturing right above him that Max was probably still awake and miserable because of his decision.   
  
But then he blinked and he saw blood on snow and--   
  
“I can’t.” David opened his eyes sharply and stared straight at the T.V to try and force the images away. “I thought Sunil just wanted to take him back but I think-- I think he wants something worse and I’m not taking the chance. This isn’t forever anyway, the police will find him and…”   
  
The weight of Gwen’s legs was gone, a comfort he didn’t know he had taken away, as she stood up and walked crisply to the kitchen and opened the cabinet. David didn’t keep much liquor in the house, maybe some things for cooking and one bottle of honey whiskey that was a Christmas gift that would likely last til Max passed elementary, but Gwen did keep some wine and such around for herself.    
  
She came back with a glass of red and sat down heavily, placing one in front of him.  _ Uh oh, _ “Gwen, I don’t know…”   
  
“I’ll have yours, then.” She took a long swallow that made him wince, before she pointed at him and said, “If you think they’ll catch him before Max misses twenty important milestones, you’re wrong. We can keep him safe  _ and  _ let him live a real childhood.”   
  


David stared at his glass, before finally giving in and picking it up. Was there a correlation between cravings and parenthood? Best not to think about it. It was a little spicier and less sweet than he liked, but not bad by any means. “Those are two very,  _ very  _ contradictory things.”   
  
“School, home, Aster’s house. Those are okay. Everywhere else, proceed with extreme caution.”   
  
They sat in contemplative silence, sipping until their glasses were empty and David deliberated before he caved in and refilled his. His sweet tooth wasn’t really there anymore and maybe it would help him go to sleep faster, give him less time to be alone with his thoughts. “Aster’s house was broken into.”   
  
“...School and home, then.”   
  
_ That was supposed to be the end of it! _   
  
“Gwen, he’s not going.” He had heard enough of this argument from himself, from Max and now from her, too? No. He couldn’t stand another second of being questioned. There was almost nothing certain in his life anymore except a few things. One, he was responsible for Max. Two, Max was always in danger. Three, every decision he made would determine just how much danger. David put the glass down hard, the noise on the table making him cringe but he was too upset to care. “I don’t want to find out,” he said, his voice wobbling. “What they’ll do if they think they have a chance. He stays here, where it’s safe and he’s with people that won’t hurt him.”   
  
He heard Gwen stand up. Then she said, “Look at me, David.”   
  
But he wouldn’t. He deliberately turned his head away, a childish, spiteful act that he probably should have thought better of. And then Gwen kicked him in the leg, making him yelp and stand up to face her, “Hey! Stop it!”   
  
“I won’t let you teach him he has to always be scared,” Gwen insisted, looking up at him and jabbing her finger into his chest angrily to punctuate each syllable. “Like his mother was, always-- always thinking the worst of everything and every corner, barely able to  _ function  _ like a real human being!”   
  
David’s face felt hot. Gwen was his friend. She was supposed to be on his side but suddenly at a turn, she was a ditch in the road, making his spin and stutter. And maybe it was because he was so tired or she wouldn’t tell him what the whole bottle thing was about that he came home to or he was just a little drunk, but he said words he would always regret. “It’s not up to you. You’re a  _ guest _ . Like it or not, Gwen, what I say is how things are and it’s hard enough already without someone rocking the boat. You aren’t his parent, _ I am _ .”   
  
He instantly knew just how much he had screwed up when she seemed to reel back from him with the hurt evident all over her face, filling her eyes like faded firework smoke, her jaw set tightly in fury but her hand dropping in defeat.    
  
David tried desperately to think of something to say that would fix it, of how he could possibly take that back but Gwen held her hand up and it silenced him as he opened his stupid mouth. “Excuse me for offending you, the  _ man  _ of the house.” She spat, picking up the slightly more than half empty bottle. “I’ll just go to my room-- oh, sorry. The  _ guest  _ room.”   
  
David quickly stumbled around the coffee table after her, desperate to fix it,  _ just fix it, fix it!  _ _   
_ _   
_ But at the bottom of the stairs, Gwen turned on him and spoke through her teeth like it was physically impossible for her not to yell if she completely opened her mouth. “If you follow me right now like this and wake that child, I am going to give you a concussion with this discount Zinfandel.”   
  
His feet welded themselves in place. David watched despondently as she went up the stairs and turned off the hallway light. And he stayed there for quite some time after, trying to wrap his mind around just what the heck came over him that he would ever talk to Gwen that way.    
  
He knew he had to go to bed.   
  
But David couldn’t bring himself to go sleep on the same level as Gwen and Max, so instead he retreated back to the couch and settled there for the night.    
  



End file.
